


Where I  Belong

by kitfisto_boyfriend, unitedrepublicoffandom



Category: Sterek - Fandom, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Derek is Stiles's Anchor, Hurt Stiles, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, POV Stiles, Sterek Campaign, bad dreams from the sacrifice of the golden three, right after 3a
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-14
Updated: 2014-08-13
Packaged: 2017-12-29 09:56:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 26,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1004019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kitfisto_boyfriend/pseuds/kitfisto_boyfriend, https://archiveofourown.org/users/unitedrepublicoffandom/pseuds/unitedrepublicoffandom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The story of how Stiles is trying to figure out everything that's going on in his life: managing school, getting a job, his relationship with his friends and his dad, trying to ignore the constant feeling that his heart is being invaded by shadows, and, of course, his feelings for Derek. Also the story of how Derek copes with his past and his current life, how he deals with that pain and the horrible things that are permanently engraved into his heart. Derek finds comfort only in one person, someone special to him for the strangest of reasons, yet  the wolf is scared that maybe he'll get his special human hurt.</p><p>Stiles' POV, and as the story progresses, we also have Derek's POV.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Ecdemomania

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The title refers to Derek, even though I do believe that what he most dearly desires is a home.

It all started once Derek left Beacon Hills.

Three days had passed after the night when they recovered their parents from the Nemeton's roots and the pack hadn't yet heard anything essential about either Jennifer or Deucalion. As far as they knew, Jennifer's body had disappeared from town and Deucalion had agreed to depart from Beacon Hills without attempting any more mischief, as a sign of peace for having had saved his life and gotten his eye-sight back. Those were good news, right? However, with the bad guys' departure also came the sudden news from Scott, the pack's new alpha: apparently, the Hale siblings had left town.

When Scott broke the news during one of the pack meetings at the McCall house, most of the team didn't seem at all shocked, the news were to be expected, after all, this town held too many dark memories for the two young werewolves. Especially for Derek, who had somehow gotten right in the middle of it all. Paige, the house fire, Laura's death, the tragic loss of two of his betas and now Jennifer's betrayal… it was way too much hurt accumulated into such a small town for anyone to take, even if it was a werewolf.

He understood, Stiles knew all the reason why Derek would want to leave, but he just couldn't understand why it felt like sudden a slap to the face as he watched Scott's lips mouth the truth. It was obviously better for Derek to be away, there was no doubt about that. He did deserve some time off from all the crap of Beacon Hills. In less than a year and a half so much had happened, so much grief, too much trouble, and now that he had his younger sister back and Isaac had found a new leader, it was definitely the right moment to step out from the shit that his life had suddenly become. Stiles understood that Derek had left for personal reasons, to escape the madness and protect his sister from the disaster; he knew those were the only reasons. But he couldn't help feeling like he had been abandoned.

But why?

Over the past year he had begun to get attached to the grumpy man who enjoyed causing him physical pain. And the growling and the hitting hadn't exactly helped much determining the origin of the erratic feelings either.

He just couldn't really wrap his head around the reasons of this sudden connection, the spark that had just lit.

At first he thought that it was only a phase he had created unconsciously by the shock of knowing that werewolves and other mythical creatures actually existed. For a long while Stiles thought that maybe that was what intrigued him about Derek, that he was a werewolf and that he was real. But as time progressed, the feelings grew stronger, they grew even more unclear, and his head began to form excuses and excuses to justify all these new sensations.

He even used his years-old crush on Lydia as a way to hinder his newly found attraction, trying to shove it into a box, concealing it and burying it deep into his mind, trying to ignore the edging feeling on his gut whenever Derek was near. He still wondered if the wolves could notice the slight rise on his heartbeat during those close encounters with Derek. And so, he kept pretending to be in love with Lydia, he bought her stuff and talked about her like he had done so before, lying to himself, trying to make everything go back to normal, back when werewolves and druids and kanima weren’t real.

They were always present, though, the peculiar vibrations he felt for the green-eyed werewolf, the strange sensation that something was missing from Stiles. It was kind of like the darkness around his heart Deaton had warned them about right before he and the others had died as sacrifices two weeks ago, the only difference was that his 'affection', this 'sensitivity' he had for the werewolf, whatever it was, couldn't exactly be described as darkness… no, it was more of an tether. His own reminder that everything was real and that he was still human, it was the token that indicated that he was still able to like someone and get tingles down his spine and shivers on his arms. It felt real with Derek. It was real. He made all the things in his life feel true, even when they seemed to good or bad to believe.

That's why, when Scott announced that Derek had left, Stiles was immediately struck by vertigo and was forced to lean his back against the closest wall. His heart-beat accelerated and he had no control about how his body reacted, not this time. The twins and Isaac noticed, just like he knew Scott had noticed as well, but Stiles didn't care at the moment, the only thing he had to concentrate on to calm himself down was his breathing, aiming to hold back the panic attack that had begun to build up on his chest.

Eventually, after some seconds, he was thankfully able to breathe again, and once his heartbeat stabilized he was finally able to ask his best friend if he knew where Derek and Cora had gone to. His new alpha didn't have an answer for him, though. Scott shrugged and went back to talking about pack stuff on an effort to target the werewolves' attention away from Stiles peculiar reaction to the Hale news. But Stiles didn't pay attention anymore, not to anything that was said during the rest of the meeting, his head had gone on and on showing flashbacks about his time with Derek.

He recalled when he was stuck inside the pool with a paralyzed Derek on his arms, which reminded him of a wet smelly dog for some reason. That time, he remembered, Stiles couldn't stop thinking about Derek's wet clothes and their bodies touching, even though there was an evil lizard circling around them ready to kill them. He smiled at the still-present memory and how his thoughts had been so inappropriate at even a moment of life and death.

Still smiling, not noticing that across the room Lydia had distinguished his oblivious expression, Stiles remembered that first time that Derek was in his room, when the cops had been searching for him. How a dumb idea it had been to hide at the Sheriff's house being a fugitive of the law. That had to make Stiles feel important to Derek, didn't it? It must've meant something for Derek to go to Stiles during that time instead of immediately going to Scott…. It had to mean something.

That day, Stiles’ immediate reaction had been shock, for he had imagined Derek in his room many times, yet he had never thought that it would be an even remote possibility. And then, just as he had nervously talked his dad into leaving him alone in his room, he had been shoved against his bedroom door by the one and only grouchy and irresistible Derek Hale.

Stiles' smile widened as he remembered how fast his heart skipped at that very moment and how he had entirely forgotten the fact that Derek could sense almost every emotion that Stiles' awkward body emitted. That flash, though, that tiny instant when he noticed Derek shoot a quick glance at his lips, that moment will forever be tattooed into Stile's memory. He had probably made it up in his overzealous adolescent mind, but he really didn't care, for him it had happened and he knew that it rather meant something. But, what exactly?

"Stiles?" He was suddenly brought back to the present by a familiar voice, "Are you alright? You look completely out of it." It was Lydia, with her hair pulled back into a pony tail, who stared right into his eyes.

It took him some seconds to find his voice back, "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine, it's just…" he wasn't even sure what was happening to him, so he just smiled at her and nodded his head.

She placed her left palm into his shoulder and grinned, "If you need someone to talk to, I'm always there, okay?"

He nodded again and pulled her into an embrace. "Thank you, I know." They pulled apart slowly, and after some seconds of standing next to each other awkwardly next to the wall, she waved goodbye with her hand and walked away. He watched as the door closed slowly right after her.

Stiles and Lydia had apparently turned into really good friends. During his panic attack the other day, when Lydia had kissed him, he thought that everything would change, that their complicated friendship was either going to end drastically or that it would somehow become awkward. Perhaps maybe his years-old crush on her would take a leap forward and his entire confusion about the werewolf would end and his crush for Lydia would resuscitate and they would get married and have babies. But none of that happened. It was as if this huge wall that had been standing between them had crumbled to the ground and they could now see each other for who they really were for the very first time. And, no, his thing for Derek hadn’t gone away, whatever that “thing” was.

At first he thought that maybe it had been one of Lydia's hidden abilities acting upon him, but after talking to her about it, they had learned that the feeling had been mutual. And after that day, they had been able to talk to each other without any more hesitation and without any more barriers.

He still wasn't sure if he was ready to talk about his feelings for Derek, though, because he wasn't entirely sure what was happening inside his mind… inside his heart. Plus, he now knew that Derek was gone.

"Is everything okay?" someone called from behind him.

Stiles turned around to find Scott sitting on a couch of the living room.

"I mean, I haven't seen you react like that to anything since… since a very long time." Scott made a gesture for Stiles to sit next to him but he decided to stay standing up.

"I really don't know." He knew exactly what Scott was talking about, "It was just really weird to hear that he is now gone." He shoved his hands into his pockets and looked away from Scott, unable to look at him in the eyes, scared that his friend could possibly read his mind. "Everything, it's everything shoved into one spurt of energy that had waited to manifest, it's like the aftershock of my entire freaking out from before." His glare stopped once it met with the living-room window. "You know the thing that Deaton told us about, this 'darkness around our hearts'?" He quoted with his fingers. "I have felt it every second since we came back."

Scott stood up and walked towards his best friend, trying to make eye-contact but failing to do so. "I feel it too."

Stiles shrugged, "Yeah well, when you said that Derek had left, even though I haven't seen him since the lunar eclipse, for some reason, I felt like that thing clung even deeper… just a bit, but it felt horrifying. It wasn't pain exactly, panic maybe, it was something worse, it was…"

"Like a desperate cry for help?"

He was forced to look up then, connecting his eyes to Scott's. "Yeah. Something like that." The tension escaped his body. For some reason, Scott's words kind of made him laugh, helping his body's stiffness relax. "Since when do you talk like that, big new alpha? All poetic and stuff."

Scott also smiled, "Since I'm able to understand." He got closer to Stiles now that the slight strain between the two had worn off. "I felt it too, the darkness, when my dad tried to talk to me the other day, it felt like a piercing of metal that ran straight through me, it reminded me of my asthma." He grabbed Stiles' shoulders and made sure that his friend would hear his next words, "My dad really is an ass."

Both of them laughed then, knowing that, even though it was all true and fucking terrifying, somehow it was amusing to hear that some things stayed the same. There were still things worth laughing about, Stiles knew that, he just needed to be reminded of them every once in a while. The two of them hugged it out and then they said their goodbyes.

Stiles walked out his friend's house, climbed into his Jeep and headed home, a bit less distressed than minutes before. But the feeling that there was still something inside him missing made his gut tremble and his mind wonder. Where was Derek? And why had he left him in this crazy town without even saying goodbye?

++..++..++

Stiles walked into his house and found it empty. He hadn't really expected his dad to be there, with the entire town gone crazy about the Darach’s sacrifices and the whole finding-out-about-the-supernatural, the Sheriff had gotten even more responsibilities to carry on his shoulders, and it was his duty to 'legally' find a way to clean it all up. Stiles had been so worried about his father finding out about everything supernatural going on around them that he hadn't really expected for him to be so understanding about it all. Maybe the Sheriff was just grateful to finally have an advantage point, now he could continue doing his job with the blinder ripped off, protecting the innocent people of town.

Stiles turned on the lights in the kitchen and left them on for his dad to grab dinner whenever he arrived. He then grabbed a glass of milk from the fridge and headed to his room. He kind of felt dirty from his day at school and from the pack meeting, but he was too tired to even take a shower and his homework could totally wait until the morning, no pressure, somehow, his grades had stayed afloat even through the bullshit.

Still dressed, he jumped into bed and kicked off his shoes. His eyes began to give out and he didn't even get an opportunity to slide under the covers when he slowly drifted into sleep.

He had been too tired before closing his eyes to even remember that, since the night of his sacrifice, he could no longer sleep soundly.

He didn't notice how long his serene sleep lasted, but it wasn't long until the aura around him grew dense and white eyes and shadows began lurking around his mind, forcing him awake.

Every night since the Nemeton had been the same exhausting routine, always worsening slightly and lasting longer. The more time he kept his eyes closed, the longer and more desperately his heart would throb and his breath would hasten. And once he was aware, once he opened his eyelids in the middle of the dark, out of the corner of his eyes, he noticed shadows shifting. Stiles felt an urge to turn and look at the shapes that formed around him, invading his room, but a slight fear clung to his stomach, a harbinger that begged him to resist the impulse. He couldn't handle it anymore. He felt like he was melting and the space around him only closed in on him, making it harder for him to breathe and more difficult to ignore the creatures that slid around him. With his arm, he looked for his nightstand, not daring to move his eyes from their focus on the window, and he flicked on the lamp... A cloth of yellow engulfed his vision.

The shadows suddenly disappeared and he remembered how to breathe. It was then when he noticed that his clothes were damp once again and his hands had continued to tremble.

It took him minutes to calm down enough to stand up and walk to the bathroom.

He stared back in the mirror that hung above the sink, almost not being able to recognize his own reflection. His eyes were red and his lips were dry, he didn't think it was possible for his complexion to look paler than normal, but damn, he resembled a ghost! Coughing and looking down at his hands, he turned on the warm water of the sink, splashing his face and rubbing his palms against his sweaty forehead. He then changed his clothes and walked over to his desk.

Stiles knew that it would be impossible to go to sleep now, not after that freak out; he didn't want to go through that again. He looked at his wrist watch, 2:48 am.

He sat there for a while, just staring at the open window and admiring the moon… "You little bitch." he whispered.

Time passed extremely slow, he spent an hour doing his homework, and by the time it was four he had run out of productive things to do. That's when he decided to clean up his mess of a room.

He began by taking down all of the articles and photos and sticky notes he had hung on his wall from the whole Darach/Jennifer investigation he had tried to solve for the past weeks. He figured he wouldn't need that anymore, so he scooped it all up into a trash bag and threw it out his window, thinking he would take care of it later before going to school. Maybe burn it all. He didn't want to think about it anymore, it all just reminded him of… yeah.

Stiles then began to clear his desk. There were books and reports and translated printings from the bestiary of the Argents all “neatly disorganized”, as he liked to explain his dad. He was separating all the library books, figuring that he needed to urgently return all of them back, when he spotted the ripped piece of paper that rested on top of a book. White Fang. It had been on Scott's summer reading list and he had insisted on Stiles to read it for weeks, he hadn't even gotten a chance to open the damn thing.

A bit befuddled by the unknown handwriting, he took the ripped notebook page and began to read.

**I'm sorry we didn't get to say goodbye, me and Cora figured that the quicker we left the easier it would be for everyone. It was kind of a rushed decision.**

**Peter insisted that I should only tell Scott about our departure so he would inform the others, but it felt unfair to not tell you as well, since you've been there since the beginning of all this.**

**We are leaving.**

**We're not sure if we are ever coming back, we just felt… I just felt like I needed a break. Too much has happened… you know all about that.**

**I'm also sorry about all the trouble that I've caused, I know that I haven't been a great Alpha, I never was meant to lead, it all just happened. And I'm sorry for what Jennifer did to you and your father, I hope you know that I had no idea about who she really was, I never meant for your father to get hurt either. All that stuff you told me the other night at the hospital, you were right. I'm sorry.**

**Anyways, Cora is waiting in the car and we have to get on going, I still have to go meet Scott to talk about all this.**

**Don't get yourself in trouble, alright?**

**\- Derek.**

He re-read the note twice. Could it be true? Had it really been Derek the one to write this? He hadn't seen Derek's handwriting before, it looked so... neat. Stiles would expect the angry wolf's writing to be... well... at least messy, not at all what was shown before him. If it hadn't been Derek, then who might've written the note? Nobody would be that cruel. It must've been Derek. That means… it was Derek. Derek had been in his room. Derek had left a note on his desk right before he had left. He had said goodbye to Stiles….

A wide involuntary smile crept across Stile's face, and he couldn't help to hold on tight to the sheet of paper, trying hard not to wrinkle it. He sighed and looked towards the open window; the moon was still hanging on the sky. That's when the idea hit him.

It was stupid, he knew that, and he had resisted the urge to do so the entire day, but now that he had just read Derek's goodbye he couldn't fight the urge… or more likely, he didn't care about the outcome anymore. He leapt (yes, literally dove) into his bed and grabbed his phone from his nightstand. He went immediately to his messages and began to write.

_Hello there, Sourwolf. So i just read the little note you left on my desk, i hope u and Cora r alright wherever u might be. i must admit, it kinda freaked me out when Scott told the pack earlier 2day about ur departure, i didn't even notice the sheet of paper on my desk until literally minutes ago. Anyways, just wanted to say hi and i hope that everything's alright._

He paused right before sending the text. He read over the message three times before finally being satisfied. With a slight tremble in his chest, he clicked send.

Stiles waited, lying on his bed. He counted the seconds after a while of fidgeting around with his own hair, getting slightly bored. Once he got to three hundred and seven, he figured that Derek wasn't going to answer back, and the smile that had been lingering on his face had worn off. Maybe Derek didn't care about Stiles after all. Maybe he had read the text and decided to ignore it. Maybe the letter he had left on the teenager's desk had actually been an official goodbye. What if Derek had left his phone at Beacon Hills? What if he had decided to leave everything and everyone behind… everyone, even Stiles. What if something had happened to him? What if Derek was in trouble? What if he got lost and vampires….

His reverie was suddenly interrupted by his phone vibrating on his belly. He picked it up hastily, still lying down upwards, almost dropping it on his face as he saw the little picture of a black wolf on the phone's screen. Stiles opened the message, a bit disappointed by the little amount of text shown, but he was still quite excited that he had answered back.

**Stiles, you do realize it's 4:20 am, right?**

He tapped "reply" and typed as fast as he could.

_it's just that i barely found the note, i felt like i needed to tell u that… so yeah. sorry 2 bother u._

He clicked send and a message came back in less than a minute, minute which he had spent rubbing his knuckles together.

**I left that note last night, what do you mean you just read it? And use correct spelling on your sentences, don’t be lazy.**

Shock ran through his body and accumulated at his chest as the words sunk in. He typed the next words anxiously, not really sure if he wanted to get an answer to his question.

_What do you mean last night? You were on my room last night? Like, at night? And, see, I’m using the caps key now._

**Yes and thank you. You make a lot of noises when you sleep.**

_Those are called nightmares, I haven't been able to sleep a lot lately, that's kind of the reason I'm texting you at 4:30._

**What do you mean you haven't been able to sleep lately?**

_Yeah well, not since all the crap that went on, you know…. It's all so weird. It's as if every time that I finally feel like I can close my eyes and catch a breath, there's something pushing me over the edge once again, ready to make me tumble._

Stiles knew that that was probably much more than Derek cared to know about, but he needed to tell somebody about it, about the sleeping problems, and it just felt right to let someone else know about his strange case of insomnia. Had he crossed a line?

Every time he tried to bring it up with Scott he felt as if he were whining about it all, since Scott didn’t complain about it and he was able to deal with it, apparently, extremely well. When he mentioned it to Scott, he felt as if he was weak, and he surely couldn't tell his dad. Not at the moment. It would just worry him into insanity So he sent the message, not really sure about what to expect.

**I'm sorry about that, Stiles. And I understand.**

Stiles couldn't help but grin. There was no way to know if Derek was being honest or if he felt pity for Stiles, but he didn't care, it was exactly what he needed to hear.

_So, Derek, why are you awake?_

**I felt like going for a run.**

_At 4 in the morning?_

**You can't help what you feel, Stiles.**

He actually snickered at the response.

_Who knew you could be humorous._

**There's many things you don't know about me.**

_Oh, really? Tell me one of them._

**Like what?**

_I don't know, anything._

_What's your favorite color? I would guess it to be leather, since it's what I always see you wear._

**Leather is not a color.**

_You still wear it a lot._

**Red. My favorite color is red.**

_Really?_

**Yes, really.**

_I wear red a lot._

**I know.**

Stiles tried really hard not to over-think Derek's text, but he couldn't help to blush.

_Like that time with the kanima and the pool, do you remember? I was wearing only red… and I was also saving your ass. I actually do those things a lot, wearing red and saving your ass._

**I remember, Stiles, and thank you; I never got to thank you for that.**

_Yeah well, don't worry about it, that's what I'm there for._

Stiles didn't get a text back after that. He looked over to his alarm clock, it was 5:00, he still had an hour to kill before he prepared for school. He thought about going over to his desk to finish clearing it from his mess, but decided to grab Scott's copy of White Fang instead and begin to read it.

Satisfied about his conversation with Derek and his not-so-boring-book-recommendation from Scott, he headed to school at 7 without even halting to eat breakfast.


	2. Enthrall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ... A large black wolf that ran through the woods with a boy on its back, hanging on to its fur, his head resting on the wolf’s lean muscles, which contracted with every leap that it took towards the moon-lit river.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to those who have decided to keep on reading, I really appreciate it and I sincerely hope that you are enjoying reading this fic as much as I'm enjoying writing it. After all, we are all here for Sterek.

 

It was barely second period and his stomach had begun to rumble.

Chemistry was still so tedious, even without Harris teaching the damn thing. Could it be possible that the class had actually worsened now that the crazy bigot was gone? They had hired a substitute but Stiles could bet a hundred bucks that he could learn more chemistry from Lydia in one afternoon than a week with the joke of a teacher who stood before him. The man had actually managed to burn himself while giving another dreary demonstration with dry-ice. His classmates, apparently, found it hilarious, but Stiles was actually annoyed… and fucking hungry.

So he did the only thing he could think of.

Complain about it.

_Derek! I’m hungry!!!!!!!_

It shocked Stiles how fast Derek answered back. Really, it sent chills through his arms. He didn’t even have time to put his phone back into his pocket.

**Well, eat something.**

_I can’t! I’m in class._

**What class is it?**

_How is that important?!? I’m a victim of starvation and you’re questioning me about my current class?!?!_

**Indeed I am.**

He looked over the text book he was holding up to hide his phone just to make sure that the substitute teacher wasn’t looking at him, however, the man had just managed to burn himself again, this time splattering dry ice all over the front of the classroom. Stiles placed his book down so he could now text with both thumbs, realizing the man wouldn’t even glance at his direction for some time.

_Chemistry. And I’m hungry._

**Did you eat breakfast?**

_Uhm… no…_

**Then you’ve only got yourself to blame.**

_See, there you go again, how come you never made sarcastic comments or silly jokes before?_

**I keep my talents hidden.**

_Is this even you? How do I know it’s you, Derek Hale GrumpyWolf, and not some random person who has stolen your… Derek’s cellphone._

**If you call me anything other than my name again I’m going to rip your throat out, with my teeth.**

_Ok, noted, you clearly are Derek._

**Aren’t you supposed to be paying attention?**

_I am ‘supposed’ to, I guess that’s what school’s for._

**Well then, we’ll talk later, now pay attention to your class.**

_You’re such a mood killer, fine; I’ll try and learn something._

For some reason, it was easier for Stiles to concentrate in other things other than his belly after that conversation with Derek, and since the substitute had now cleaned up his mess with the water and had pulled on a pair of gloves, they were now able to proceed with the experiment. He actually had fun. Danny being his lab partner this semester, they achieved extra points for the experiment.

 

+++…+++…+++

It wasn’t until lunch that he checked his messages again.

**Stiles, can I ask you for a favor?**

He put down his curly fries and made sure that nobody from the pack was around. He didn’t know exactly why he did that, he just felt like none of them were supposed to know that he was still talking to Derek even after he’d left. Was Derek talking to any of them too?

_Sure, howl away._

**That isn’t funny.**

_Sure it is, anyways, continue._

**I know it’s probably too much to ask, but I don’t feel like I can ask anyone else to do this for me. I really don’t want to speak to Peter about this matter and Scott and I don’t have as much trust yet, so I hope it’s not much to ask.**

At the word “trust” Stiles’ heart began to accelerate. Derek trusted him. Derek Hale admitted that he trusted Stiles, skinny defenseless Stiles.

_So you trust me?_

**Apparently I do.**

Just for reassurance he looked over his shoulder, making sure that none of his friends were spying over him as he typed away. They were too concentrated on their meals, apparently, all except for Lydia, who was reading a thick book in what appeared to be Latin.

_I trust you too._

He grinned as he clicked send.

**So can you do it?**

_Do what?_

**The favor.**

Oh yeah, sorry, go ahead and ask, I’ll do it.

He waited for Derek to answer and saw the opportunity to stuff some fries into his mouth.

“Stiles, who are you texting?” Lydia had apparently paused her reading to look over at him.

He gulped down the fries with milk to make time to make something up, he really really really didn’t want to tell her about Derek asking him for a favor, it didn’t feel right. “Uh… my dad.”

“Oh really? Your dad is texting you, knowing that you are currently at school? Where phones aren’t allowed?” She winked.

“Yes, Lydia, really, he just…” His cellphone vibrated on his pocket and since he just wanted to see, of course, out of pure curiosity, what Derek’s urgent petitions were, he decided to ignore Lydia’s accusing stare. “Uh whatever, keep on reading your Latin.” He took out his phone and covered it with both his hands, slightly shifting in his seat so he could turn away from her.

“It’s Greek, I got bored with Latin.”

**There’s this box at the loft with some important things that I left behind. I couldn’t bring everything with me. I wanted to know if you could maybe grab them and take them to your house. It feels kind of strange to just leave them collecting dust at the loft, unprotected.**

Stiles sighed, did that meant that….

_Does that mean you’re not coming back for them?_

**It means that I don’t want my personal things to be abandoned on a building that nobody’s watching over… collecting dust.**

Stiles, being the hopeful idiot that he was, took that as a maybe and just let it go.

_Alright I’ll do it._

**Great. I left the keys on a small hole in the corner of the hall, it’s hidden underneath some wood. I really appreciate this, Stiles.**

_Don’t worry, remember that’s what I’m there for._

Scott and Isaac took a seat next to him right after he sent the text. They had been laughing, apparently. He smiled at Scott, but ignored Isaac… he still gave Stiles chills. And really, who wears scarves inside the cafeteria.

“Dude, are you alright?” Isaac wore befuddled expression, “Your heart is beating like crazy.”

Stiles smiled lackadaisically at the werewolf, rolling his eyes. Thanks Isaac for being a nosy… “Yeah, I’m alright, it’s this cafeteria food, it worries me that it’s poisonous or something, I mean look at this.” He played around with his fork and a gray mass that had begun to rotten on his plate.

Scott gave him a questioning look but then simply grinned at the little castle Stiles had begun to draw on his plate.

“I know, it’s completely unsanitary.” said Lydia as she closed her book and took a bite of the apple she had just stoles from his plate. Allison, being the angel she was, placed her tray of food in front of him and handed him her own apple, replacing the one Lydia was now holding with a wide smile on her face. “I’m totally filing a complaint.”

  
+++…+++…+++

He left to Derek’s loft immediately after school ended. He figured it wouldn’t take him long, so he didn’t feel the need to tell his dad. He was probably going to be back before his shift ended anyways.

Stiles found no trouble finding the hidden key, Derek really needed to find a new place to hide the damn key, any burglar could notice the weird dent on the floor where it was hidden. However, once he stepped inside, he couldn’t find the box anywhere in the apartment. Other than the bed and the same tables and chairs as before, there wasn’t much furniture, and there was definitely no box.

_Derek! I’m at yours, I don’t see any boxes in here._

Just as he expected, Derek texted him almost immediately. He could get used to that. Nobody ever returned his texts that quickly, if they returned them at all. Only Scott did so, and God knows Scott is incredibly clumsy and slow when it comes to typing.

**Did you look upstairs?**

_You mean those stairs actually lead somewhere?_

**That’s what stairs do.**

_I always thought that you only used the stairs to sit on them and stare or something, you know, like Peter._

**Just go upstairs, Stiles.**

_I hope the stairs aren’t like a secret passage to Narnia, I’m never too sure with you. I was thinking on my way here that maybe all this is a trap._

**You think too much.**

_That I know._

Stiles was actually hesitant about what he was going to find at the end of the spiral steps. He hadn’t given it much thought before, he really actually had guessed the stairs where just part of the decor but… wait, Derek said to stop thinking. And so Sties did, since a long time, stop his overthinking. He walked cautiously up the stairs until he arrived to the top.

There wasn’t actually much to look at. There was another bed, this one looked way comfier, a tiny wooden table that had obviously seen better days, a bookshelf full of books bound on leather, and a big carton box sitting in the middle of the room… covered in dust. Stiles chuckled at his observation.

**Have you foundd it?**

_Derek, I’m not that stupid you know. It’s like sitting right there in the middle of the room… literally collecting dust._

**I didn't say you were stupid.**

_You’ve thought it._

**You’re actually quite smart, Stiles, we all know that.**

_Lydia is the smart one._

**That’s right, you’re the awkward boy who trips with gravity and shakes his limbs around for no apparent reason. But also, you’re smart. You’re good at figuring out stuff. And you are brave.**

Was that Derek complimenting him? Oh, but of course Stiles wasn’t about to give the werewolf the pleasure. Still, he smiled as he typed the next message.

_Thanks, those words made me feel better about myself. (This is sarcasm by the way.)_

Immediately after putting down his phone, Stiles tripped with own his left foot and fell down right next to the box, flinging his arms around in a failing attempt to find something to hold on to in his battle against gravity. Once he was face-down on the floor, landing mostly on his cheek, he actually giggled at the irony of what had just happened. Like Derek said, he really was an awkward boy who tripped with gravity.

His cell vibrated. Stiles pondered a minute about telling Derek what had happened, but no way in hell.

**Thanks for what you’re doing, by the way.**

_No biggie, I’ll just take it home and once you come back you can pick it all up._

**Stiles?**

_Yeah?_

**Never mind, I’ll talk to you later, alright, thanks again.**

_Yeah, ttyl._

+++…+++…+++

Stiles arrived home and placed the box carefully on the carpet right next to his desk, he then placed the note Derek had left him right on top of it and padded it. He looked at his watch and noticed that he still had time before his dad came back from his shift, so he took a shower and managed to do his homework for the rest of the week, finding it hard to concentrate on anything else. Once he was done he picked up Scott’s borrowed book and continued where he had left off.

His phone vibrated hours later, as the moon rose into the murky night sky.

**Are you still awake?**

_Yeap, I’m lying here in my bed counting the seconds of silence, why?_

**Just asking.**

_Really? “Just asking.” That’s all you got? You interrupted my counting for a mere just asking?  
_

**How are you?**

_Well, that’s an improvement. In this very moment I’m surprisingly good, actually, you?_

**I don’t know.**

Stiles sat up in his bed and placed the book down, not really marking where he had left off.

_Derek, what do you mean you don’t know?_

**I don’t know.**

_Well, this is a dead end. Why did you text me, then?_

**Sorry, I’ll leave you to it.**

_No, wait! That’s not what I meant._

For Stiles disappointment, there was no answer for five minutes. He vacillated whether or not to send another text, for he did want to talk to Derek, but he didn’t want to seem too forward, either, or desperate. But, why would he seem desperate? Desperate for what, even?

But fuck it.

_Derek, are you there?_

Suddenly, his phone began to ring. Not just vibrate, now the phone was ringing. Well, technically, it was howling at Stiles, but he was too shocked to even care to smile about his own personal joke. He gripped it tightly and debated whether or not to answer the damn thing, his jumpiness and the howling coming from the phone didn’t help much with the concentration. Shaken and a tad too anxious, he slid the screen to answer the call but he didn’t speak. Not him nor Derek spoke for what felt like ages.

Finally, a bit desperate of only being able to listen to Stiles’ hasted breathing instead of not the usual jibber jabber, Derek took the initiative to break the ice. “Hey.”

It took Stiles what felt like an eternity for him to recover the flexibility on his tongue and speak actual words, “Good night.”

“What?”

“I… I meant it as in good morning… not as a farewell, no… I mean, yeah, I was trying to say, hello. I mean, it’s not morning right now, unless you’re in Turkey. I didn’t mean to say it as in a goodbye, cause it sounds like a goodbye, but it’s not, I mean, I did answer the call didn’t I…” Stiles shuddering breathing was conspicuous through the phone.

Derek actually found the boy’s unsteady hint and accelerated speech to be so distinctive of the boy that he couldn’t help but snort. Stiles heard it and he face palmed. “Sorry, I’m a mess.”

“I know.” Derek smiled even though he knew that Stiles couldn’t see, it was more of a reflex really. “Don’t worry about it.”

There was silence again.

After some seconds, it was Stiles' turn to speak.

“So, Derek, uhm… where have you run off to?”

“Right now we’re at Idaho; we thought we could use the woods and the mountains for a while. There are many beautiful sights here.”

“Nice, I’ve heard that it’s all green and stuff. And the potatoes… yeham, there’s also potatoes there.”

Derek smirked, “Yes, Stiles, it is very green. And yes, there are many potatoes here too.”

There was quiet for a while, but this time it wasn’t as awkward as before. They could listen to each other breathing now that they’ve heard each other’s voices, and Stiles thought it was kind of soothing, comforting even through the slight static of the connection. He lied down on his bed and gripped at one of his pillows. “And how’s Cora doing?”

“Good, she went out to get dinner, actually.”

“That’s… that’s good.”

“Yeah.”

“By ‘out getting dinner’ do you mean hunting down little rabbits?” Stiles purposely added some of his patented comedic manner to his question, worried about whether Derek would enjoy the remark or ignore it, but he didn’t care, he still smirked to the phone on his hand.

“No, Stiles, she went to McDonald’s.” He could practically see Derek rolling his eyes.

There was silence again as the two of them paid close attention to each other’s presence through the phone. Sure, Stiles wasn’t able to hear anything but the faint sound of a T.V. in the background and the werewolf’s huffing; Derek, however, through the connection on the phone, could hear the wind blowing into Stiles’ open window and a song playing on Stiles’ iPod, and, even more clearly, the strange pattern on the teenager’s heartbeat… someone was outside Derek’s hotel room.

“So, she’s here now, I can hear her parking the car. I guess we’ll talk later then?”

“Yeah, sure, say hi to her from me, okay?”

“Sure, I’ll tell her.”

None of them hung up.

“And, Stiles?”

The way Derek had mentioned his name had kindled lava butterflies in his stomach, Stiles couldn’t help but grin at the sound _. Why? Why am I smiling?_ “Yeah?”

“Try to sleep tonight.”

Stiles' smile grew after that and he buried his head on his pillow, still clutching on to his phone. “I’ll try, same for you.”

Derek sighed and hung up the phone. Stiles couldn’t see, however, that Derek had been smiling as well.

It didn’t take more than half an hour of staring at the ceiling counting wolves wearing leather jackets for Stiles to text Derek back.

_So, how was dinner?_

They chatted through texts until midnight about all kinds of things. Derek told Stiles what places he and his sister had visited since leaving Beacon Hills and Stiles then told Derek about all the topics the pack had discussed over on their last meeting. Stiles said that they really missed Derek, even though Derek knew that was a lie, but Stiles insisted, for _he_ did miss the cranky man’s presence. Stiles asked Derek to try the curly fries from the North so that then Derek could write him an essay comparing the fries from Idaho to Beacon Hill’s own, that way Stiles could debate whether or not it would be plausible for him to move to a northern state after graduating. Derek said that he had had them for dinner, he also said that they were nothing compared to those in Beacon Hills. Stiles then tried to convince him to come back just for the curly fries, but Derek ignored the remark and went on commenting about Cora’s annoying music taste. They continued to talk about other stuff as well, however, after many texts sent and received, the Sheriff walked into Stiles’ room and told him it was time to go to sleep. Stiles then said goodbye, frowning, his fingers a bit too hesitant as he typed.

_Goodnight, Sourthing._

**Don’t call me that. Goodnight to you too, Stiles.**

_Sleep tight._

**You as well.**

_And sleep warm._

Stiles didn’t go to sleep, though, and not only because he was too scared of the eyes that lurked around his memories, the ones clinging to the darkness swamping his heart thanks to the fucking magic tree from the reserve…. Stiles stayed awake past 2 a.m., reading over the conversation he had had with Derek.

They seemed like longtime friends, as if Derek had just left for summer vacations. They talked about their lives in the most comfortable of ways. When had they become friends? Could they even call themselves friends? I mean, yeah sure, they had saved each other's lives many times before and they had been pack for some weeks, maybe, they even went on missions together and they had chats every now and then before Derek had left… but were they friends? Stiles sighed as he slowly drifted into sleep, reading one message in particular that he had received from Derek before his dad had rudely interrupted them.

**It’s kind of weird not having teenagers running around my loft. I kind of miss it. And your Jeep as well.**

He drifted into the first serene sleep since that night they had sacrificed themselves to save their parents, thinking about how he hadn’t yet told Derek, directly, that he missed him.

 

+++…+++…+++

Stiles woke up late and barely got to school in time.

The first half of the day he couldn’t bring his own mind to fixate on anything else than the many memories of Derek. In the middle of Calculus, he recalled the night at the hospital and he immediately felt horrible about the things his mouth had blurted out in the middle of the chaos. The note Derek had left in his room confessed that Derek thought Stiles was right about all that he had said… no, yelled at his face. But he had to let all of his anger out some way, his dad had been taken and he couldn’t let the last member of his family be ripped away from him. Unfortunately, it had been Derek who had gotten the unlucky opportunity to be his punching bag.

He barely remember all the things he had told Derek, he just knew that it had been extremely inappropriate and completely out of line. Stiles could still see Derek’s eyes, how they loitered on Stiles’ desperate face knowing exactly that there was sorrow steaming beneath the surface of rage, taking the diatribe that was been shoved into his face without complaining, Derek took it all and didn’t ask Stiles to stop, if it hadn’t been for Scott who finally calmed him down, who knows what other shit Stiles might’ve yelled at Derek.

He couldn’t handle the guilt anymore.

His seat was in the middle of the classroom and the teacher would probably see him, but he didn’t care, he had to say it now or he wouldn’t bring himself to do it later in the day. Stiles took out his phone and began to type.

_Derek, hi, I just wanted to tell you that I’ve been thinking a lot (even though you asked me to stop thinking) since that night I found the note in my room. You wrote in that sheet of paper about the night in the hospital, when I went al tantrum on you and basically spat on your face… you said that I was right about it all. But I wasn’t. What I did was wrong, kind of necessary given the circumstances, but it was still wrong. All the things I said, I didn’t mean any of that, I want you to know, it was just a way to let my anger out, and you just happened to be the first one in reach when I arrived to my boiling point. I’m sorry. And also grateful. Thank you for being there for me that night. Being honest I don’t even remember half the words I said, I’m still sorry though… So yeah, anyways, if it works as any consolation, I’m in the middle of class and I’m hungry as hell again._

Stiles thumbed send and then buried his face into his palms, breathing heavily, not sure if what he had just done was the right move. But it was done; now all he had to do was wait for an answer.

 

+++…+++…+++

**That was a very long text.**

Stiles was barely arriving to his house when he opened the message. He had received it during lunch but he had been too scared to read whatever was inside it. Once he read it he finally let go of the tension that had been hanging on his shoulders for most of the school day. He parked his Jeep and walked inside.

_Yeah, sorry about that._

**It’s fine Stiles, I was kidding. I’m also grateful that you were there that night. Thanks for not leaving me on that elevator by myself… unconscious.  
**

_I wouldn’t have, not ever. So everything’s good?_

**Yes, Stiles, everything is good. Don’t worry.**

_:) So, DerBear, whatcha doing?_

He risked it. Stiles thought he heard Peter call him that once.

**I have an actual name, Stiles, that’s not it. Cora is driving, we are headed over to Seattle for the weekend.**

_Sounds like fun, what are you thinking to do over there?_

**Don’t really know.**

_Well, be sure to try the curly fries wherever you go, alright. I need that report someday._

**I’ll make sure to try them.**

_Alright then, I have an essay to write now, talk to you later?_

**Sure. Have fun.**

_Yeah right, same for you._

_+++…+++…+++_

Another week passed by with the two falling in the same mindless routine. Derek tried not to text Stiles during school hours, but Stiles was too stubborn and he still sent Derek silly questions about his trip. However, Derek would wait until 2 p.m. to finally send Stiles’ an answer. It was all good, once in a while Stiles would ask Derek about more personal things. At first, Derek would go on as if nothing had been asked, but by the middle of the week he had finally given in and just decided to say “I’m not comfortable talking about them.” And Stiles understood and never asked any more questions about his family, for the time being. Derek would ask Stiles about his father and how he was doing with the whole ‘finding out’ thing. Stiles would ask honestly and then talk about school and how things were being dealt with in there. They also talked about non-supernatural things, like Stiles’ plans of getting a job and Derek’s search for better curly fries. Stiles couldn’t sleep soundly yet, but the nightmares had slowed down a notch, specially whenever he talked to Derek before falling asleep, he didn’t tell that to Derek though, he thought it would freak him out.

The week itself was uneventful, but they never ran out of things to talk about, after all, it was Stiles Stilinski.

 

+++…+++…+++

It was Thursday and Derek had just told Stiles that it was his turn to drive the Camaro. Stiles didn't understand why that was relevant, but then Derek explained vividly that it meant he couldn't text while driving. Stiles, entirely ashamed of his lack of concentration on obvious matters, blushed and then answered:

_Yeah sorry, I forgot about that. Hehe, talk to you later then. Say hello to Cora for me._

Stiles gripped his phone tightly on his right hand and ran his left palm through his hair. He counted to three and grinned at the ceiling. He really had begun to find it difficult to concentrate on anything other than Derek lately. Stiles sighed and then walked to his desk and stared at his computer’s desktop background of wolves for what felt like ages, too anxious to even begin typing up his essay for English.

An idea finally came to mind as he eyed the wolves on his background. Not even regretting his decision of disregarding his essay due the next day, he walked down stairs and to his Jeep and headed to the public library.

Once he parked at the library lot he immediately walked over to his very acquainted corner in the library. The mythology section. He grabbed some books about werewolves that he had ignored before, rolling his eyes at the little stamp on each of the spines that read FICTION. Randomly picking two books large enough to last him an entire week, he then walked to the front desk, where he noticed a large poster in front of the check-out announcing vacant jobs. His eyebrows darted upwards.

“Hello.” Stiles knew the guy behind the counter too well already from the many trips he did in his spare time to this library, when he tried to learn as much about his new supernatural life as possible, intending to be ready at any time for whatever decided to show up in the creep town in the future.

“Hey there, Stiles, I see you’ve come back for your doses of the supernatural… again.” The guy, Justin, looked up from the magazine he was currently reading and grinned. Stiles tried not to blush, the guy surely was attractive. Bushy eyebrows and black hair with a slight tan and stubble… he reminded him of Derek, except for the smile. He had seen Derek’s smile only once at the Sheriff’s station, nothing could compare to that one breathtaking smile, even if it was all for show and not intended for Stiles to admire. “Only two books, hu? You normally check out a surplus at a time.”

“Yeah, well, I’m trying to actually read them wholly this time.” He blatantly glanced over to the poster in the wall. “So, you guys are looking for help?”

“I guess so, Mrs. Williams has taken a break, after all that has happened in the last weeks with the disappearances and the killings… she was too jumpy every time she came in here, began to scare off the little kids, you know, more than usual.” Stiles tried really hard not to look guilty. Of course the sacrifices hadn’t been his fault but he was still part of the whole mess, and hiding all of the truth from the innocent people from town just seemed a bit cruel. Necessary, sure, but unjust nonetheless.

“I’m sorry to hear that, I actually liked her… and her evil stare.”

The guy behind the counter cracked up. “Yeah, she was kind of intimidating sometimes.” He took the books from Stile’s hands and checked them out for him. “So, are you interested in the position?”

Stiles did need a job. And since the whole mess with the Darach and the Alphas was sorted he didn’t have anything important to fill up his time with, Lacrosse season didn’t start until after Christmas break and he really really wanted to save money for senior year. “I… sure… why not. What sort of things would I be forced to do, though?”

“Just the usual. In the mornings we restock the books back in their places, most of the action happens during the afternoon, that’s where you come in. You’ll have to do the check-outs and at 8 we check in all the books to have them ready for the next morning’s shelving.” He broke out a huge smile, “And the good part is that you get a lot of time to read your books right here instead of having to take them home, so that would surely help _you_.”

For some seconds, Stiles vacillated. But what else would he entertain himself with. “Alright I’ll take the job.”

“That’s great. Just come back tomorrow in the morning so you can meet with Mr. Myers and you’ll be good to go.”

“Thanks, Justin, I’ll be back tomorrow.” Stiles offered his hand and Justin shook it.          

He grinned and left the library, on his way to Derek’s loft.

 

+++…+++…+++

Stiles slid the door open, but this time, instead of placing the key back in its hiding place, he kept it in his pocket, and he walked in nonchalant as if it were his own home, not even waiting to think about how creepy he must’ve looked to just invite himself into an empty apartment. But Derek had asked him many times already to stop thinking about things too much, so he was basically just obeying his remarks.

He dumped the books in the bed and then walked towards the kitchen. He had expected it to be empty, but he found a box of cereal and some granola bars. He clutched the box under one of his arms and took it with him to Derek’s bed, stuffing a granola bar in his mouth as he went. The room was engulfed by a soft orange glow as Stiles made himself comfortable, placing a pillow under his head, softly inhaling the familiar scent of Derek’s. It was more of an odor than an aroma, but he didn’t care, the fabric couldn’t have smelled any more true of who Derek was.

Stiles took out the books and began to read the cheesy novel that he had for so long deliberated on checking out from the library. He had seen it in his countless trips, and many times he had thought of reading it, you know, just for the sake of it, a distraction. Today he had finally given in. It was about a girl who fell in love with a creature of the night and it narrated the troubles they had to overcome to finally be together. Stiles considered it to be too stupid and cliché at first, spending time in his head mostly complaining about the story’s loopholes and the authors unnecessary use of advanced vocabulary nobody cared about, but as the story unfolded and the people of the medieval town threatened to separate the couple against their will, he actually began to enjoy it, loosing himself in the plot. For hours, he read through the book, trying to ignore and not look up the many facts about werewolves that were included in the story just to debate whether or not they were truth or actual fantasy. He smiled at the fact that the book was classified as science fiction.

It wasn’t until the people in town captured the creature and threatened to kill the girl for treason that Stiles finally placed the book down to catch a breath, deciding to look at his watch. It was twelve, way past his curfew, and his father would probably worry if he didn’t find his son at home when he arrived from the Sheriff’s department soon. Stiles took out his phone and typed a quick text to his father.

_Hey dad, staying over at Scott’s tonight. Have to finish this project Love you!_

Now that the trouble had been ‘averted’, he turned around and looked out the window to notice the slight glimmering of wondering stars that he couldn’t see as clearly through his own window back home. He totally preferred the view from up there in the loft than from his room in the “suburbs”.

Stiles took off his shoes and socks and then walked towards the window, where he opened it up for a better view. A soft breeze flew in and embraced him. He could see a couple of cars driving by and lights beginning to fade down, letting the city be absorbed by a murky quality, the woods were exposed as a large bush that began at the end of town, expanding out far, surrounding the tiny city. Stiles could merely make out a very slight opening in the woods in the far distance, a very narrow dirt road, one that he, as well as the rest of the pack, was all too familiar with. The forgotten road that led to the Hale house and the Beacon Hills Preserve, too much had happened in those places, too much lay hidden beyond that thin line that bordered the woods. People from town had begun to avoid them as much as possible, for their own safety, as a specific order from the Sheriff’s department.

There was a sudden howl coming from behind him, slightly disconcerting Stiles, bringing him out from reverie. He felt his pulse rising, where more wolves suddenly arriving in the town again? Why had they followed him? But after listening for a couple seconds more, once he figured out where the sound had actually come from, he smiled at his own personal pun and took out his phone from his pocket.

**I thought about asking, but from what I’ve gathered from you in the last nights I’m guessing you’re still awake.**

_Your hypothesis is correct, I congratulate you. Good observation skills._

**Thank you. Hello Stiles, how are you?**

_I’m very very very good, Sourpatch, and you?_

**I’m good myself, Cora, however, is quite cranky.**

Stiles smiled to himself. It had been a week since Derek had last regarded Stiles calling him names. Either he was too tired of threatening Stiles to desist or he didn’t mind the name calling anymore. Stiles chose the last probability.

_What did you do to her now?_

**Nothing. She’s just hormonal, I can smell it on her.**

_Ew, Derek, gross, I really didn’t need to know that. And let her be, goodness, if she’s on her days then just lay off, who knows what an angry werewolf girl on her position is capable of._

**I’m trying to, really, but it’s hard to “lay off” from her when we’re sitting in a car together driving around for hours.**

_Then find a place to stay for a while and let her steam off or go to a doctor or eat some homeless puppies or whatever female werewolves do at times like that._

**Stiles, I seriously doubt eating puppies will help her at all. Also, that's cruel.  
**

_Hey I was just suggesting. But seriously, why don’t you just stop for a while? Aren’t you tired of moving around?_

**I hate to say this but… you’re kind of right.**

_Oh, and for your information, the full moon is in two days. I thought me being right was like an already established rule, more like common sense._

**Like I said before, you _think_ too much, Stiles. We’re at Carson City, do you have any suggestions?**

_Well, I kind of chose the last place you visited, so now it’s your turn, learn independence, Derek.  
_

**We didn’t go to Salem because of you, Cora asked to check it out.**

_Yeah, sure, keep telling yourself that._

**Stiles** _._

_Fine, come to Beacon Hills._

Stiles had walked back to Derek’s bed as he typed the last text. Now that it had been sent, he was gripping one of Derek’s pillows with his hand, stuffing it to his face as he inhaled Derek’s presence unconsciously. It wasn’t until his phone howled again that he noted that his free hand had been trembling the entire time he’d been waiting for Derek to answer back.

His heart was menacing to burst out from his chest as he slid open the message.

**Maybe. I’ll talk to Cora and see what she thinks.**

Stiles dropped the phone and in vain flipped his arms around to catch it before it hit the ground with a thud. He picked it up and immediately answered back, his palms sweating.

_Yeah, that would be great. I mean it’s just so you guys can rest from the trip, you know, you’ve been at it for two weeks already and with Cora’s current state you don’t want to risk her going feral and killing strangers in the road like truck-drivers or hitchhikers or stray puppies. And you do have your loft so you wouldn’t spend any more money in hotels and restaurants and all of that stuff that you both spend money on, also gasoline, yeah, no more driving around for hours. You can actually rest your butt for some time, instead of pressing it against the leather seats and, you know, stuff._

**Stiles, are you okay? I didn’t think it was possible for you to rant like that through text messages.**

_No, yeah, I’m fine. I’m okay. Sorry, you know me. Flailing boy and all that, the hyperactive spazz.  
_

**Alright, I hope you're fine. Anyways, Cora grunted a ‘yes’. I guess we’re going back to Beacon Hills. See you soon, then.**

_Yeah. I’ll see you soon… as in you and your sister, like both of you, the angry Hales._

**Try to get some sleep now, okay? Good night, Stiles.**

_Goodnight, Derek._

**Are you sure you didn’t hit your head again?**

_Funny, really funny, ha-ha-ha._

Stiles fell asleep on Derek’s bed minutes after, smirking. The window was left open and the breeze invaded the apartment, accompanied by the moon’s tender touch. It was the first time Stiles had slept through an entire night without an interruption from the darkness that was ever-present around his heart. His very first dream in weeks manifested itself into his sub-consciousness that night: a large black wolf that ran through the woods with a boy on its back, hanging on to its fur, his head resting on the wolf’s lean muscles, which contracted with every leap that it took towards the moon-lit river

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope to get feedback from you guys, maybe even some guidance as to how the story should unfold. I got the basic layout, but your wishes are my commands.


	3. Eftsoons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Stiles! Wait…” The boy immediately froze in place and slowly turned around; Derek was walking to him, his hands behind his back. “You forgot these.” Stiles’ shoes were in his hands. “Unless you enjoy driving barefoot.”

+++…+++…+++

“Dad, no, just 5 more minutes.”

Stiles shuffled around the comforter and inflexibly kicked at whoever was trying to shake him awake. He was still unconsciously hugging the pillow that reeked of Derek’s scent. Derek’s scent… That’s when Stiles’ mind collided back into reality. He was not in his house, he was still at Derek’s loft. On Derek’s bed. Wrapped around Derek’s sheets. His nose buried on Derek’s pillow. And who the hell was poking him in the back of the head? Stiles opened his eyes and turned his entire body around.

“Oh my GOD!” It didn’t take Stiles more than a second to scream at the top of his lungs, throw the pillow at Derek’s head, intend to stand up, trip with the comforter, stumble to the side of the bed and fall on the ground, landing just inches away from Derek’s feet. His face was one with the floor and, as much as he desired to see Derek in person again after weeks, his shame forced him to remain lying on the floor right next to his dignity.

“Uhm, Stiles,” Derek leaned over Stiles' body lying on the floor and cleared his throat, “What were you doing in my bed?”

Stiles opened his right eye slightly, just so he could see what expression was painted on Derek’s face. Surprisingly, it wasn’t his usual death-stare, no, instead, replacing those angry eyebrows and fuming frown there was a slim smile and a pair of concerned eyes. That gave Stiles enough confidence to speak. “Hey… Derek.”

He pushed himself to his feet and was finally able to see Derek in all his glory. The werewolf was wearing his usual leather jacket and those very very tight jeans, which turned on a tingling feeling inside Stiles’ stomach. He didn’t seem at all mad at the moment, but Stiles knew how easily that could change, after all, it was Derek, you never knew with Derek.

“Hello, Stiles.” Derek eyed Stiles entire complexion. Stiles had let his hair grow longer and thanks to his sudden morning scare it was even messier than he had ever seen him. There was also some drool on the boy’s cheek, which he intently tried to ignore. His clothes were disheveled, his shirt hanging slightly over his belly-button, showing the happy trail that led to his pants… also, he was barefoot. “Good morning.”

“Yeah, sure, good morning to you too.” He really did try not to offer Derek a dumb half smile, but fighting it was useless, it came out as a reflex. “Derek, yeah… also about your bed, I mean, I just came here yesterday cause I didn’t have anything else to do and I thought I could stay for a moment and then I just fell asleep, it’s not like I do it often, like since you left, like I know it’s not my apartment, it’s the first time I slept in your bed, I swear, like I wouldn’t have if I could’ve but I just did and… “ He was blushing now. Stiles noticed the direction of Derek’s stare and he immediately fixed his shirt and ran a hand through his still disheveled hair in an attempt to fix it, yet making it worse. “What are you doing here?”

“Do you ever breathe when you talk?” There was a hidden grin that lingered behind Derek’s eyes. “I’m here because it is _my_ loft, Stiles.”

“But like… now. Weren’t you at Carson City?”

“Yeah, but we came back, remember? You were the one who suggested it.”

“Oh well, yes, but I didn’t mean it like immediately.”

Derek’s smile faded away instantly. “I guess I could come back later…”

“No! Wait! Like, that’s not what I meant, it’s good you’re here. In your loft.” He paused when he noticed how stupid that had sounded; Stiles was the intruder after all. “Shit, I’m sorry, I’ll leave you to it, you’re probably tired from the drive.” Stiles turned around and began to collect his books from the bed and the floor. “Where’s Cora?”

“She’s upstairs.” He glared towards the ceiling and lifted his bushy eyebrows.

“Yes! Here I am! And I’m not in the mood! So, Stiles, it’s good to see you again and all, but could you please just shut up!”

Derek rolled his eyes and Stiles just stood in the middle of the room, holding his backpack in front of him. “I told you she was cranky.” Derek whispered.

“I HEARD THAT!”

Stiles knew that Cora could probably, quite plausibly, go looking for him later and smash his skull to dust, but he couldn’t resist the giggle that emerged from his mouth as he listened to her screaming.

“Seriously, Stilinski, I need my beauty sleep!”

“She’s serious, though.” Even though it was a scary reaffirmation, Derek still smiled. 

“Yeah, sorry about invading your territory, I’ll get going.” He turned and walked towards the sliding steel door, his heart still shaking from the entire scene.

“Stiles! Wait…” The boy immediately froze in place and slowly turned around; Derek was walking to him, his hands behind his back. “You forgot these.” Stiles’ shoes were in his hands. “Unless you enjoy driving barefoot.”

 

+++…+++…+++

 

Stiles drove back to his house in silence, drowning in shame. He replayed the scene in his head and he couldn’t think of a worse thing that could’ve happened. Seriously, though. What the hell was he thinking when he drove to Derek’s loft to stay the night. It’s not like he had ever been invited before, like ever, and he didn’t ask Derek for permission. Derek had trusted him, _him_ , when he told Stiles about the keys, and Stiles had betrayed his trust, for whatever reason. Yeah sure, Derek hadn’t seemed concerned, but how was Stiles supposed to show his face in person again after what had just happened. And what had just happened?

He parked, stumbled upstairs to his room, and dropped his face onto his pillow. It wasn’t as comfortable as he imagined. He tried going back to sleep to hopefully forget the entire thing, but his phone ‘howled’. _Shit, I’m not ready for this yet, Derek_. Stiles vacillated for some seconds, knowing that it was too soon to explain to Derek the real reason why he had gone to hide at Derek’s apartment that night. It was too embarrassing, such a distinctive act of weakness. What would Derek think of Stiles if he said that he hadn’t been able to sleep lately and that he forcefully needed Derek’s presence to ease him into closing his eyes and letting go.

Nonetheless, he had to face this sooner or later, especially now that Derek was back. So he took out his phone and read the message.

**Stiles, you do realize you’re late for school, right?**

_What are you talking about?_

**It’s Friday and you left my place at 8:30.**

He read the message and sighed, glancing over to his calendar. Yeah, it was Friday, and it was also 9 a.m. _Nicely done Stiles, great way to finish your week._ He sighed again, feeling even dumber than before as he replied back to Derek.

_Oh, yeah, that. I kind of forgot. But thanks for reminding me._

**No problem.**

Stiles stood up and stumbled back down the stairs, a frown hanging on his face, but, just as he was about to open the front door, he froze. He thought for a very short second, and once again, sighed. He knew he was going to regret it, but what the hell, what was there to loose.

_Hey, Derek, so it’s 9, if I go to school right now they will write me in as late, however, if I just say I was feeling sick and vomited my guts out when I go to school on Monday they’ll justify my absence._

**Sneaky. “Justified absence”.**

_See, I’m smart._

**Like I said before, I’ve never thought you were stupid.**

Most people he knew, even his friends, just called him annoying and way too hyperactive, they never saw past that to notice his shrewdness, that’s why he loved it so much when Derek said that to him. He had counted the times the werewolf had called him smart since they had begun texting. Four.

_So, whatcha doin’?_

**Cora kicked me out for the day.**

_I’m sorry about that._

**People seem to be taking control over my loft lately. I should be getting used to it.  
**

Stiles sighed and leaned against the closest wall.

_I’m sorry, Derek, really, I didn’t mean to abuse your trust like that. I just didn’t feel like being in my room and I needed something different. And Scott has Isaac in his house and his Dad arriving to town has screwed his home-life around. Your place just felt like a liable option. Sorry._

**Don’t worry about it, Stiles, really. I was just messing with you.  
**

Stiles smiled at that. He walked to his living room and lied down on the carpet, using his backpack as a pillow. Hopefully Derek had forgiven him.

_So, what are you up to today, now that you’re back?_

**I’m driving over to Peter’s to check on him, make sure he’s not up to something evil. Then, I don’t know.**

A tiny bulb lit up inside Stiles’ head. Following Derek’s advice from many times before, he tried not to think too much as he answered back to Derek.

_Sounds fun, wanna do something later?_

The few minutes that took Derek to answer Stiles seemed like the longest in his life. For a second, he truly thought his offer would get rejected. He could feel the pain in his heart again, like that first night he had gone to sleep after the sacrifice. What if Derek didn’t actually want to hang with Stiles? What if Derek thought that he was too annoying to be around? What if after this morning he was freaked out? What if…

**I could use some company other than my sister, what do you want to do?**

The overzealous feeling that invaded Stiles and the grin that had magically surfaced on his face, if photographed, could scare any small child. He immediately jumped up for no reason and began to walk around his living room as he typed.

_Uhm, I don’t know, the movies, there’s this movie that I really want to watch. Maybe, if you want to, or we can do something else if you don’t like movies, which would be weird, seriously, who doesn’t like movies? Unless you don’t, which is totally fine, really. We can do anything, whatever you want._

**Whatever I want? That’s too subjective. And the movies are fine, Stiles. What movie?**

Stiles had to quickly google the films that were currently been shown at the movie theater, for he honestly hadn’t worried about going to the movies in what seemed like ages. Who had time for movies when your social life revolved around werewolves?

_Warm Bodies._

**Really? A romantic zombie film?**

_Yeah, I like zombies._

**Fine, pick you up in an hour?**

_Sure, yeah, I will wait here at my house, do you need the address?  
_

He tried really hard not to think about the time Derek broke into his house and waited for Stiles in his room to then shove him into the wall…

**I know where you live, Stiles.**

_I’m glad you’re back._

**Me too.**

**+++…+++…+++**

Derek arrived to Stiles’ exactly in an hour, no minute more or less. Stiles counted. He knocked at the door and it immediately swung open from the inside after the first bang, Stiles’ face showing a tad-too-spirited grin. He had showered, Derek could tell, he could see how Stiles’ hair was still wet and… and… that smell. “What the hell is that smell, Stiles?”

His smile disappeared as he heard Derek’s complaint.

“What? But… but I took a shower and changed clothes and even drowned myself in lotion so I would hide my stench, Scott always complains about it…”

“That’s it, how much of that thing did you pour on yourself? You don’t smell like… like Stiles.”

The creepy smile resurrected the sound of Derek’s words, the meaning of them sinking in. “That’s what you don’t like? That I don’t smell like myself.”

Derek’s frown weakened, “It’s just weird, it isn’t you.”

Stiles giggled and motioned Derek to come into the house. “Fine, I’ll go wipe it off or something.” He closed the door right after Derek stepped inside and he then ran up the stairs to his bathroom, where he yanked his used towel from its rack and began scrubbing off the lotion he had intentionally showered himself with. He knew that the wolves could smell just about anything, and Stiles knew firsthand how Scott could smell hormones, and if Scott could, Derek surely could. He just wanted to make a good impression after what had happened at the loft. Guess it had been a tad too much.

Stiles put his shirt back on and came out of his bathroom. Derek was sitting in his bed playing with a little stuffed wolf that he had gotten as a present years ago. Derek looked up at Stiles, the question insistent in his eyes.

“My dad got it for me when I turned 9. My mom had just passed away and I guess I didn’t feel like celebrating anything. So he got me that.” He was walking slowly towards the bed, looking directly at the little gray wolf on Derek’s hands. “Wolves had always been my mother’s favorite animal. Her favorite book was White Fang.” Stiles sat next to Derek and continued. “She used to tell me that everyone, as rude as they seemed to act or as angry as their personality was, with the right kind of love, they could learn to smile.” Derek grinned shyly at that and Stiles could only think about how perfect Derek’s smile was, and it was so rare to see it that Stiles wanted to keep it safe in his memory. “I have these memories of her.” He paused, waiting to see if Derek wanted to hear the story, maybe he was boring the man. However, Derek looked at him right in the eyes and nodded. “She had this gift to make everyone around her grin with just her presence. She was so kind and genuine and so thriving with positive energy… I wish I could be like her.”

There was silence for a while.

After some time, Derek cleared his throat and placed the stuffed wolf on Stiles’ lap and then patted its head with his thumb, “I’m sorry that she passed away, Stiles.” They had never talked much about Stile’s mother before.

The boy looked up and smiled,. “Yeah.” Derek’s eyes never left his for ages, and Stiles didn’t even flinch, he liked it. “So, do I smell better?” He snuggled in his sweater and exaggerated his inhalation.

“Yes. Now you smell like a Stiles.” Derek took the stuffed wolf from Stiles lap and placed it back on the night-stand where he had taken it from.

“That’s funny, Scott’s always telling me that I stink.”

“You kinda do.”

Taking the playful insult, Stiles pouted and made his usual wobble with his neck, but once Derek chuckled, he followed right behind. “Yeah, I guess you’re right, I do have this special odor.”

“It’s good, though, your own scent signature.”

“Whatever, Bitterthang , let’s go or we’ll be late for the movie.”

 

+++…+++…+++

 

They arrived late to the movie, but neither of them really cared enough about the movie to notice. There were very few seats taken and they decided to sit right in the middle by insistence of Stiles.

For most of the duration of the movie, Stile found himself torn between trying to keep space between his knee and Derek’s and synchronizing his left hand so it wouldn’t meet Derek’s while diving in for popcorn. However, being the nervous erratic that he was, there were a couple of times their hands would meet inside the box of popcorn, but Stiles would immediately coy away. It was a good thing the room was dark, or else Derek would’ve been able to notice him blush.

For almost two hours they sat side by side, every now and then brushing their legs or their arms as they shuffled in their uncomfortable seats. Derek was putting an obvious effort into watching the movie without complaining out loud and clearly suffering, while Stiles was trying to control his breathing and, like always, thinking too much about whatever was happening thanks to Derek’s presence. Who knew that after all the shit they had gone through in the past months and all the tension between them, they could now be sitting in a movie theater watching a romantic zombie movie sharing popcorn.

Stiles hoped that the moment could last longer.

Right as the credits began to run, Derek got up, stretched his arms, and complained, as if he had been holding his breath for the past hour and a half, “That was horrible.”

“Come on, it wasn’t that bad.” Stiles had actually only paid attention to about one third of the movie, the other thirds of the time he had spent wondering about how much heat Derek’s body radiated and how good his arms would feel wrapped around him at night… but it could never happen.

“You have really bad taste in movies, Stiles, I expected more from you.” Derek waited until Stiles got up and finished stretching to finally flee the room. “Seriously, it was horrible.”

“Fine, it wasn’t as good as I expected, I admit it.” They arrived to the foyer.

Stiles moved in front of Derek and took a sip of his soda. “I’m hungry.”

“What, you didn’t eat breakfast again?”

“I forgot.”

Stiles threw his now-empty can in the trash and they both walked towards the parking lot side by side, a bit too close to each other. “That’s happening to you a lot lately.”

Derek’s arm brushed against his as he opened the door of the theater. Stiles looked up at him and then asked, “Can we go get curly fries?”

There was some hesitation exposed on Derek’s expression, but then his face softened and he agreed. “Sure.”

 

+++…+++…+++

 

They had gone to the diner and at 3 p.m. they decided to go back to Stile’s house to pick up Derek’s “mystery-box”, as Stiles had decided to call it.

Once in  Stiles’ room Derek, being anxious about opening the box, wavered for a minute, rubbing his own knuckles and staring at the duct tape that sealed the dusty antique.

“What’s in it?” Stiles was sitting on his bed and Derek was sitting on the floor right next to the carton-box.

“Some family stuff, the few things that survived the fire.” He looked back to where Stiles was observing, “The things Peter didn’t hide away.”

“Yeah, I’ve never liked him.”

Derek smirked. “I don’t think anyone does.”

“Have you opened it before?”

“Not once.”

Stiles slid off the bed and took a sit next to Derek on the carpet, “Are you nervous?”

Derek’s eyebrows showed concern. “I’m just not sure if I should open it right now. Laura was the one who rescued this. I just don’t know what I’m supposed to expect.” He looked at Stiles, “Do you think I should wait?”

Stiles couldn’t help the feeling that was rising in his belly as he looked into Derek’s eyes. For some reason, he looked terrified and lost, a look that Stiles had seen on Derek’s face many times before, unfortunately. “I… I don’t know. I guess, if it doesn’t feel right yet, you could wait a bit, if that’s what you feel.”

That seemed to calm Derek a bit. “Yeah.” He stood up and helped Stiles to his feet. “Do you think you could hang on to it for a while?”

Stiles nodded. “No problem. I’ll keep it safe.”

They sat on Stiles’ bed after that, ignoring the box for the rest of the day. They talked about Derek’s trip and Stiles couldn’t resist and asked about the curly fries test. Derek took out his phone and showed Stiles the comparisons that he had written about the many fries and Beacon Hill’s own. Most of the assessments were grounded on basic words like “too salty” or “no”, but Stiles still appreciated the effort. Stiles then told Derek a little more about the pack and how his father had dealt with the Darach thing and the public’s many questions. Stiles then kicked off his shoes and went on about how Scott was acting different after his FBI father had arrived into town, he explained how he wanted to talk to Scott yet his friend was still distant and spending way too much time with Isaac. Derek asked if it was jealousy, but Stiles answered honestly, explaining that it wasn't jealousy at all, it was mostly concern for his best friend, he knew how Scott felt towards his father.

Derek also explained to Stiles what was happening to Cora, how she hadn’t still yet recovered entirely and how the full moon was affecting her even more because of the hormonal issues. Stiles then discovered that that was the main reason why many said that female werewolves were stronger, raving hormones and “girl issues”. Derek chuckled at the comment. The werewolf also told Stiles about his visit at Peter’s and how he seemed “normal” in the parameters of Peter being his usual sociopath self.

They also talked about Stiles’ plans for the near future, how he was about to get a job on the library and how he wanted to save money during the rest of the school year. Derek didn’t ask why, but Stiles told him anyways, that it was for traveling. He really did want to go visit England or Australia before going to college. Derek said that he hadn’t visited either countries, and then there was silence. However, it didn’t take long for them to start the conversation again, this time about Lydia’s mysterious banshee discoveries. They also ate some chips and Derek showed Stiles some card tricks Cora had taught him on the road.

It wasn’t until 7 when Derek realized how long they had been talking.

“Uhm, Stiles, I wanted to ask you something before I leave.”

“What, but it’s barely… oh, damn, time flies, hu?” He looked up from his watch to meet Derek’s concerned expression.

Derek just began talking, not caring if Stiles gave him permission to speak about it, he just had the urge to ask. “Stiles, the first time you texted me you mentioned something about not being able to sleep.” He paused. Clearly waiting for Stiles to say something about the matter.

“Yeah, I remember.”

“What did you mean exactly about that?”

Stiles faltered. If he began to talk about the darkness that engulfed him whenever he felt lonely he would then have to confess his discovery about how Derek’s presence helped him cope with the ordeal.

“It’s nothing, really, I’m feeling better.”

“Stiles, I found you sleeping in my bed, how is that feeling better? Have you been sleep walking?”

“Look, Derek I said I was sorry, ok…”

“Stiles!”

They were still sitting cross legged in front of each other on Stiles’ bed. Derek looked directly at Stiles’ trembling honey eyes, he could sense how the topic troubled Stiles profoundly. “Talk to me.”

The boy rubbed his knuckles and then shifted his position in the mattress. “It all started the night that, you know, the sacrifice. When Allison, Scott, and I went under?” Derek nodded as he recalled the events that had been narrated by Scott not long ago. “Deaton warned us that when we came back we would feel this… this darkness. A feeling always present inside us. We talked about it once, Scott and me, how we could both feel it at all times, like an extra bump in our hearts. We asked Deaton if we could get used to it, he just smiled humbly at us and told us that he had warned us about it. Just imagine how that felt. I mean, he did gave us some exercises and we visited Mrs. Morrell, but nothing has helped.”

Derek had scooted over closer to Stiles, just a tiny bit, and Stiles was too concentrated on his narration that he didn’t even notice that their bodies were now closer to each other. “Anyways, it’s worse at night, especially when I try to go to sleep. At the beginning it felt like someone was there looking at me the entire time, waiting for the moment when I would get distracted and they could finally spring up and attack me, it was horrible.” He blinked as a tear escaped his left eye. “I didn’t sleep for more than an hour a night for three days. I thought about telling my dad, but he was so distracted with the entire cleaning-up-our-mess that I felt like it would just add to his concerns, I thought I could learn to deal with it.

“But then I found your note and I thought that maybe I could text you and then, out of exhaustion, maybe I would be forced by my own body into sleep. And the first night it worked, but not because of exhaustion but because it felt like I wasn’t alone anymore. I fell asleep every night talking to you…” Stiles looked away, “Look I know it sounds weird okay, please don’t get mad but… it’s just….”

“Stiles,” Derek placed his right hand on Stiles’ shoulder, “It’s okay.”

Stiles looked at Derek’s hand resting on him and then back at Derek’s hazel eyes. “When I talk to you I feel like you’re here with me and it’s easier…” He looked away, finding the wolf sitting on his night table. “I feel secure. I don’t know why, well I do, but… anyways, yeah. And it works most of the time. I would talk to you and then it would be easier for me to sleep, at least for a couple more hours before the darkness kicks in again and tries to consume me.”

Derek’s strong grip still remained on his shoulder. “That’s why I spent last night at your loft, I just thought I could try it, this time not only after texting or speaking to each other but feeling like you were actually there, physically.” He chuckled timidly. “Sorry, this sounds so pathetic and now I feel like a stalker. I’m sorry if I’m making you uncomfortable.”

Derek smiled. “It’s fine, really. I’m not uncomfortable, just glad you’re okay. You had me worried. I wanted to ask before but I thought it would just make it worse. If what you need to feel better or secure or whatever is my bed, then it’s all yours.”

Stiles smiled, if only Derek knew how incredibly tempting that had sounded to Stile’s ears for _multiple_ reasons. “That’s really… kind." He chuckled, "Thanks.”

“I’m glad I could help.” Derek grinned and gave a final squish to Stiles’ shoulder before finally letting go.

They shared the quiet of the night for a while. Stiles was now lying down and staring at the ceiling and Derek was gazing out the window, looking at the moon and processing the many scents of Beacon Hills that came mixed with the wind through the frame.

“Derek.”

“Yeah.”

“Could I ask you for a favor?”

“Sure.”

He paused and thought about what he was about to do. Stiles insisted to himself that what he was about to say, he truly didn’t mean it in a romantic way, that it wasn’t what he was asking for… no, he was going to ask Derek just so he could sleep over like a normal teenager again. So he forgot about the many confounding feelings he currently had spinning in the whirlpool of his mind and manned up to ask Derek the request.

“Do you think maybe you could spend the night?”

Derek’s eyes didn’t move away from the night sky, he didn’t even flinch as he very slowly processed Stiles’ question. Stiles counted to five and then naturally panicked, “I mean, if you can, just until I fall asleep, then you can leave if you want to, and Cora kicked you out anyways and I don’t want her to like kill you in your sleep or anything, and if you go to Peter, well, nobody likes Peter, so….”

“Stiles,” Derek kicked off his shoes incredibly fast and then lied his head down next to Stiles’, “Shut up.” He looked over to the boy that was trembling frenziedly to his right, emoting some kind of uneasiness. “I’ll spend the night, alright?”

Stiles tried to control his heartbeat, but after a minute of failing, he just gave up and came to the conclusion that if Derek hadn’t heard his accelerated heartbeat yet then he was either an idiot or a useless werewolf without developed abilities, and Stiles knew that Derek was neither of those. “Thanks, Derek.”

“No problem Stiles, now go to sleep. I’ll be right here.”

Stiles shuffled himself inside the sheets of his bed and finally got control over his heartbeat. Once the noise that emerged from his own chest had faded out, he was able to listen to Derek’s breathing, easy and deep, right next to him, inviting and secure. It didn’t take long for him to fall into a serene sleep with a werewolf breathing on the back of his neck.

+++…+++…+++

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A very huge thanks to my amazing beta for helping me out with this story, you opened my eyes to all my flaws, and for that, I'm so grateful to you, my dear!!! Isabella, I owe you so much, you guys go visit her tumblr at http://unitedrepublicoffandom.tumblr.com/ and also, if you have any suggestions on the story or comments about it please do feel free to shout it at my face through here or through my tumblr: derek-and-stiles.tumblr.com, it would mean a lot!
> 
> Keep on howling, loves!!!


	4. Encaustic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry we took so long to post this chapter, guys! But I love your responses!!! Thank you all for reading. And now, I hope you enjoy this.

 

When the sun came up the next morning the only sound Stiles could hear was the slow breathing of a warm body by his side. He felt safe. He had missed that feeling.

He tried to turn around, yet he noticed that his legs were tangled with Derek’s. Not wanting to wake up the werewolf with his clumsy movements, he decided to stay in that same position and enjoy the moment as much as he could.

Stiles felt, in a way, that he was betraying Derek’s trust, for he knew the only reason Derek was there with him, in his bed, was because Derek felt pity for the boy who had constant nightmares. Derek only liked him as a friend, and that was an overstatement. Even though it wasn’t exactly what he wanted, what Stiles had imagined, it still was better than having nobody there for him. And Derek was his friend, at least Stiles thought so. And friends helped each other. So, without giving it any more thought, Stiles closed his eyes and tried to go back to sleep, counting Derek’s breaths, being grateful for the sleep he was been gifted by Derek.

Later in the morning, the sound of his father’s car engine starting up interrupted his sleep. Not even the rays of sunlight that invaded his room could have been able to warm him up as much as Derek’s body lying next to him. He noticed, turning his head to the window, that Derek’s eyes were open. He smiled, for he had never seen Derek so… calm.

“Good morning, Bunny-teeth.”

Derek didn’t seem to take notice on Stiles’ remark; he just lied there, his hands making a pillow for his head, staring at the ceiling of Stiles’ room. “Are you okay, Derek?” There was something unsettling about Derek, now that Stiles thought about it, something was bothering him. “Derek, you look upset. What are you thinking about?” He sat up and slowly glided away from Derek, thinking that maybe his presence had been what had bothered Derek.

Derek blinked and then looked at Stiles with the same stare that he used to glare at the ceiling. “I have to leave now. It’s a full moon tonight and Cora needs me.” He stood up and laced his muddy shoes. Stiles couldn’t take his eyes off of Derek, his countenance reflecting misunderstanding and befuddlement.

“But, Derek, what’s wrong? Did I do something? I’m sorry, I didn’t….”

Derek cut him off by sliding the window open completely. With, his left foot out of the window, he shot a quick look at Stiles, this time, his eyes seemed to be melting, getting watery, as if he was preventing his heart from pouring out his glare. Then, he took off.

Stiles jumped from his bed and ran towards his window, almost tripping over Derek’s box. He searched the street with his eyes, trying to find where Derek had ran off to, but he was already gone.

How the hell did this just fuck up! Damn it, Stiles! He ran his hands through his hair and kicked his wall furiously, still barefoot, ignoring the pain. How had that stunning morning turned into a disaster in less than an hour? Only he could fuck something up without trying.

+++….+++….+++

 

He just ran, his mind wondering off and losing all interest in his surroundings. He ran away because that was what he was an expert on. Running away from all he feared, from all he loved. It was a curse, his daily torment, his daily anxiety, for everyone Derek had ever cared about always ended up hurting.

Ever since he could remember all of the people that had warmed up his heart at some moment in his life, everyone who had whispered soft words to his ears, everyone who had motivated Derek and guided him through life, his family, his friends, his lovers, all of them, Laura, his mom, his father, his cousins, Kate, Paige, Jennifer… either they had betrayed him or died as a result of his own stupid faulty decisions.

But it was time to change things. It was time to turn things around. From now on, he would learn to not care for anyone else but his sister and himself, he would forget about everything else. That’s what he had decided once he had made the decision to leave Beacon Hills. It was a new beginning in more ways than one.

For some reason, he had given Jennifer a chance, for she had seemed nice and innocent and sincere and harmless… someone Derek had needed so bad. And it had turned out, like most things in Derek’s life, to be a cruel way to use him to destroy. And he had been so blind.

Yeah, sure, Stiles wouldn’t ever plot anything evil. Seriously, though, the boy fainted at the sight of needles. He was the most honest person Derek had ever known, and God, did the boy have guts when it came to the people he cared about. Stiles was clumsy and weak and extremely annoying, but he was also caring, loyal, noble, smart, astute and sometimes, even if it’s hard for Derek to admit, funny. He has a lion’s heart and a vibrant inevitable presence. That’s why Derek couldn’t let himself be pushed deeper into Stiles’ life. Putting him in danger of any kind, risking his life even more than he already has... if anything happened to Stiles, the innocent human trapped in a horror movie, and it turned out to be Derek’s fault… it would be impossible for Derek to live with that guilt. He couldn’t bring himself to care anymore than he already did, he couldn’t handle caring so much for anyone as much as he could care for Stiles.

When he had walked into Stiles’ room, almost a month ago, to write the note, he had thought that it was probably the best for both of them to finally say the last goodbye. As he wrote the letter, his heart had accelerated like never before. At that time, he wasn’t even sure about his feelings for Stiles, he just knew that whatever he felt inside him was the strangest thing… a feeling he had never experienced before for anyone else.

Then, he left. It wasn’t until days later he had received the first text.

As Derek kept on running he replayed the scene in his head: He had been sitting in his hotel room reading a book, red eyes casting a helping glow, as Cora slept on the other bed. His phone vibrated in his pocket, and for a second, he panicked. The only one that could have contacted him at that time would have be Peter, and any news from Peter meant bad news. Even more surprise ran through his face as he read who the text was from. The first questions that ran through his mind was, “Why the hell would Stiles text me at 4 in the morning?” And then a more exhilarating, “Stiles! It’s Stiles.”

He had debated whether or not to answer, for he had promised himself to forget about those few he cared about left in Beacon Hills. But the excitement won over his reasoning and so he texted back.

That’s how it all began, and that’s how it went on for weeks. He tried to ignore the messages received daily; he thought about ceasing their talks every morning, Derek told himself that he had to stop if he wanted to save Stiles from any oncoming harm, but he couldn’t bring his hands to stop typing the boy back whenever he made a snarky comment or questioned Derek about his trip. It was an urge, it felt like a need.

Cora had noticed, but had decided to not comment on it. She knew who Derek was texting, for there was nobody else in the world who would even attempt to contact him. She also noticed how her brother’s face lit up whenever his phone vibrated… she hadn’t seen Derek’s face do that since before the fire, and even that was a rare sighting back then. So she held back her snarky comments and let Derek be. Derek knew that she knew, but he didn’t care.

Now, as he ran through the streets of Beacon Hills in plain Saturday morning, he still couldn’t resist his thoughts about Stiles and their last night together, how Stiles fit perfectly by his side, how Stiles made cute noises as he unconsciously wiggled closer onto Derek’s body. Derek ignored the estranged glares that people shot at him as he kept on running, way too fast for a usual human. He just wanted to get as far away as possible from Stiles, from his greatest accomplishment, the only tether to this town, and also, his biggest concern.

He arrived at the loft minutes later and immediately threw himself on his bed. He knew he would look like an angry twelve year old, but he covered his face with the pillow and tried to grump away from reality. Gradually, he calmed down and concentrated on his surroundings, applying all of his attention to his wolf senses instead of the preoccupied ache in his heart. Stiles had been Derek’s anchor for quite some time, this time, however, Derek concentrated more on the anger.

He could hear Cora still asleep on the second floor, her heartbeat was calm. His tongue was dry from all the running; he could taste dirt and sweat. The only thing he could see was darkness, for his eyes were still stuffed in the pillow. He could also feel the breeze enter through the open window, and that’s when he smelt it. Lingering in the air, persistent on his pillow, engulfing his lungs, there was the essence of Stiles.

The wolf had forgotten that just a night ago, Stiles had decided to invade his loft and rest on Derek’s bed. It tensed Derek straight in the chest. He had ran away from Stiles just to have him present even at his own house…

Albeit the realization, he didn’t run away from Stiles this time, even though he knew that the more comfortable he felt around the boy’s smell, the harder it would be to let go from it later on. No, Derek decided to stay in his bed, clinging to the pillow Stiles had apparently claimed as his. And so, Derek fell asleep with the scent of Stiles conquering his room. Derek wasn’t actually tired, and the wolf inside him urged Derek to move and prepare for the full moon that was forthcoming, but lying there in his bed and relaxing into Stiles’ scent felt like it was the only thing he could be comfortable to do at the moment. And so he did.

+++…+++…+++

 

Stiles’ anxiety increased as the seconds ticked by. He couldn’t stop shifting from corner to corner in his bedroom; every couple of seconds he would glance over at the window expecting Derek to appear with that stunning stubble of his, ready to take Stiles in his arms and.... “I’m so damn stupid! Fuck!” What had Stiles done wrong? Derek just leapt into the streets without saying anything! Did he snore too much at night? Scott always complains about that… “Did I fart?” he thought, “God damn it, Stiles, you driveling idiot! How could you fuck this up!”

He grabbed his phone from the nightstand, wondering if sending Derek a message would be the right thing to do. His brain told him to stop, that it was only going to make matters worse, but his anxiety, his shame, and his uncontrollable impulse to fix things forced him into typing the text.

_Look, Derek, I have no idea what just happened, but could you at least talk to me? You just glared at me and jumped off my window without saying anything! I’m really sorry if I did anything yesterday to upset you, or this morning, or whenever,,, whatever it is, Derek, I’m really sorry. Please forgive me. Please talk to me._

Stiles looked at the rushed text he had typed, his thumb was trembling, unsure whether or not what he was doing would just worsen the situation. Just as he was about to click send, the doorbell rang. He closed his eyes and saved the text for later.

Almost tripping over, he rushed down the stairs and opened the door. Lydia stood before him, all dressed up and with an incredibly wide smile that reflected a signal of ‘we’re on a mission’, which would have scared Stiles before the entire ordeal with the werewolves. Her strawberry blond hair looked incredibly radiant with the sun light behind her beaming, helping her show off her silhouette. She eyed him from head to toe and then her excited expression changed into one of urging curiosity. “Stiles, what’s wrong? You look… like you just saw a ghost.” She smirked.

Ever since the whole deal with the Alpha pack and the sacrifices had ended, she had begun to feel confident about her skills. She wasn’t worried about her strange unconscious behavior anymore caused by the “banshee nature”, as she called it. Instead, with the help of the pack, she had discovered even more things about herself. Her confidence had returned, and with that, also came snarky comments about ghosts, spirits, premonitions, and clairvoyance.

“Seriously, though, are you okay?” She walked inside the house and closed the front door herself. She inspected Stiles again. He was barefoot, wearing wrinkled jeans and an equally wrinkled shirt. His hair was disheveled; the pillow had marked the left side of his scalp. And his eyes, they seemed like they were about to explode, they were swollen and wet. “Stiles,” she inched closer to him and took his shaking hands in hers, “what happened?”

+++…+++…+++

 

They sat in the living room next to each other as Stiles emptied his heart to Lydia. He told him about the nightmares that had invaded his nights and told her about the emptiness that engulfed his chest. Stiles also told her about Derek and him texting for the last month, though she didn’t look surprised by that information, apparently the whole pack had noticed. They had also noticed how his face beamed to light whenever his cellphone vibrated with an incoming message of Derek’s. “The whole pack knows, Stiles, but since you haven’t told us anything about that yet we’ve silently agreed to wait and shut our mouths about whatever is going on there.”

To that, Stiles didn’t know what to say. So he just waited for Lydia to continue. “Is that what this is all about? Did he do something Stiles? What did he say?” She took out her lipstick and applied some more as she continued to threaten, “I’m going to slay that idiot or make some wolfsbane tee and shove it down his throat! Did he…”

“He’s here.”

Lydia jumped from the couch. “What? He’s in the house? Is he holding you hostage? That son of a …”

To her reaction, Stiles had to let out a snort of amusement. Lydia seemed too much like the mom of the pack, being so protective; it fit the young woman incredibly well as a new aspect of her personality. “I meant he’s in town. He came back for the weekend, so did Cora.”

Her eyes were still wide with curiosity, but she calmed herself down and took a seat next to Stiles once again. “When did they arrive?”

“Yesterday morning.” He sighed, remembering how the siblings had found him sleeping in their loft.

“Is that why you didn’t go to school yesterday?” She raised an eyebrow, teasing Stiles.

He sighed again. “Kind of, yeah. Yes.”

They looked at each other, waiting for the other to say anything. It was Lydia who took the lead.

“Why hasn’t he told us they were back? Why haven’t you? It feels weird.”

Stiles kept on rubbing his own knuckles and shaking his legs. He explained how they had only come back because of some “things” that Cora was going through and that they needed a short break from the travelling and that the full moon was tonight; they felt more in control if they were in known territory. Also, he told Lydia that they didn’t want to disturb the pack right now, since things were so calm.

“Those Hales, I will never understand them. They do realize that they are pack, don’t they?”

Stiles really didn’t know the answer for that, they had never adventured into that special topic, since Scott was the alpha now, Stiles nor Derek had any say on the matter. “I don’t think they know. What does Scott say? I haven’t asked him myself.”

Lydia smiled. “Of course they are pack, Stiles. We all are.”

Stiles smiled genuinely for the first time since Derek had jumped off his window. Hearing Lydia say those words warmed up his heart for some reason.

“Stiles,” she interrupted his sudden reverie, “you still haven’t told me why you were almost crying when I came here, and from what you’ve told me right now about the shadows slowly fading after texting Derek, I’m guessing the nightmares are not the reason.”

He hesitated about telling her, but he really was going to explode soon into a sea of tears if he didn’t get it out, and who better to tell than the death-perceiver, fugue-state-experienced, vision-sensitive banshee best friend.

He poured his heart out right there and then, not caring anymore about finally admitting his feelings for the ridiculously attractive grumpy werewolf who enjoyed causing him physical pain. Stiles told Lydia about all the times they had been in trouble together, saving each other’s guts. He told her about Derek’s arm being infected with a wolf’s bane bullet and how he had helped save the wolf. The time Derek had invaded Stiles’ room to look for help also came to mind, and he voiced it with pride. He told Lydia about the time they discovered Peter was the mad alpha and how they were there for each other at the hospital. Stiles also narrated with extreme detail the two hours that they had been stuck in the pool thanks to the maniac lizard ex-boyfriend of hers and he also shamelessly voiced all of his incredibly inappropriate thoughts at that instant. He talked about them both being paralyzed next to each other as the world around them crumbled at the Sheriff’s station. Stiles remember how they had seen each other during the summer, just to talk about the supernatural, some lessons Stiles had kept secret from the rest of the pack. He also told her about the night at the hospital and how he had extremely fucked up by screaming at Derek’s face… he ended up by telling Lydia that Derek had forgiven him after the mess had ended.

Lydia eyed him suspiciously as Stiles fought to gain back his breath. How the hell does anyone talk so much without pausing to breathe? She chuckled. “Dear God! Stiles, you got it bad!”

Stiles looked up to see her beaming. “What? No. I’m trying to ignore it all, alright, it’s weird… it’s different. It’s not like you think….”

“Stiles!” she interrupted, “You just basically told me about all the times you and Derek spent time together, and with extremely creepy detail I must add, I’m not judging you at all, but seriously. You’ve fallen for Derek since the beginning.”

“No, I didn’t know what it was before. I think I hated him at the beginning, he was so angry all the time and so not fun. He hit me and punched me and shoved my face in my jeep’s steering wheel and pushed me into walls and threatened to rip my throat with his teeth…. But out of nowhere things just changed, it’s weird to explain….”

“Don’t try and explain it Stiles, I understand. Sometimes it just happens.” She smiled and he smiled. She then nudged him and he shrugged, blushing and grinning like a little girl.

He looked over directly at her eyes, “Well, since you had ignored me for years, I guess I needed to switch targets.”

She sneered and raised her eyebrows. “Honey, please, I’m everyone’s target.” They both laughed. Then they embraced as if it was the most habitual thing to do. “But I give you permission to chase after Derek… God that sounds so weird.”

“Just a little bit.” They let go and Stiles looked at the ground, replaying the things that had happened just before Lydia had arrived to his house. “But I don’t know what happened. I don’t think I’ll see him any time soon. He had this weird look when he left; I think he’s angry at me, I fucked up.”

“Stiles, we’re talking about Derek, he always has weird looks. And we all know he’s not a person to use words.” She took out her phone and began to dial a number.

“Lydia, wait, what are you doing? No! Don’t call him! Give me the phone!” He tried to yank it away from her, but she pushed him back and he almost fell off the couch. “I’m not calling Derek, doofus.” She stood up and locked herself in the bathroom. Stiles regained his balance but it was too late, he could hear Lydia talk to Cora from the other side of the door.

+++…+++…+++

 

 “Yeah, we’ll be waiting for you.” Derek had woken up about half an hour. Cora had as well, and now she was on the phone talking to whoever. Derek was too entranced in his own ruffled thoughts to pay the slightest attention to the dim voice of a girl on the other line.

“Sure, see you soon.”

Cora hung up the phone and walked down the stairs with the usual Hale strut. She was dressed and her face showed less stress than the day before. Apparently the sleeping-for-an-entire day without the monotonous bumps on the road had helped her calm her hormonal wreck down a nudge. Derek was staring out the window in the same creepy manner uncle Peter did, with a fixating stare, crossed arms, and a dramatic pose at the neck. “Who were you talking to?”

Cora walked all the way to the kitchen and snatched four granola bars before answering her brother. “Lydia Martin.” Derek didn’t take his glare away from the view of the town. “She wants to come talk to us about who knows what.” She opened two of the wrappers and stuffed half of each bar into her mouth. Still with her mouth full, and munching, she continued, “She’s coming over at 2 for lunch.” The lady wolf took the entire box of bars and placed it under her arms as she walked back upstairs, not caring to comment on Derek’s absence last night, for she had really needed the alone time. “You should go buy more of these, our visitor yesterday decided to eat all the strawberry ones, he even left the wrappers on the floor. That little bastard.”

Derek flinched at the mention of Stiles’ presence in the loft, he hoped Cora hadn’t noticed. He had seen the wrappers spread over the floor but he had decided to leave them there… for no reason at all. “You should clean that up, it will attract pests.”

Trying to ignore the last comment, he continued staring out the window, watching as the cars drove by and the clouds formed monsters in the sky. When he was little, all he could see was animals from the forest and random human faces in shapes of puffy clouds, also, the occasional tree and school bus. But now that he had grown up, after all that had happened to him, whenever he glanced up at the sky, the only shapes he was able to form were those of deformed figures and contortioned behemoths glaring back at him.

The woods were visible from where he stood, that had been one of the main reasons Derek had chosen the apartment at the very top of the building. Also because it wasn’t that far from his old burned down house. Every now and then, the waft would be accompanied by the smell of remaining dusty childhood memories. “And Derek,” said Cora from the upstairs bedroom, knowing that Derek would be able to hear her words clearly, “why the hell are you holding on to that pillow?”

+++…+++…+++

 

Stiles had decided to not take a shower, trusting his “natural scent”, wanting to please Derek’s nose after the comment from the day before about recognizing familiar smells. He also wore his red hoodie, remembering Derek’s favorite color from one of their first conversations.

Lydia and Stiles had left his place and picked up some takeaway food. They ordered a meal for six. Since they were experienced with werewolves; they knew they ate double the amount humans did, if not more, especially during a full moon.

What they were doing didn’t really hit Stiles until they were walking towards the Jeep after picking up the food. Noticing Stiles’ distracted look, Lydia insisted on driving. “It’s my car, Lydia.”

“Yeah well, you are unfocused; I don’t feel like crashing again after the deer, Stiles. You just concentrate on what you’ll tell Derek, alright, I’m doing this for you guys.”

Stiles obeyed, mostly because Lydia’s stare was scary. What the hell was he going to say? Derek, I have feelings for you. I’ve had them for a long time. I’m sorry about whatever I did last night. I’m sorry if I betrayed your trust and I’m sorry for telling you this right now but I had to tell you so you don’t freak out later… please don’t freak out, alright. I’m sorry. Yeah, he was not going to say that.

They parked on the street and carried the food all the way over to the top floor of the building.

“Stiles, calm down. It’s going to be alright.” Lydia smiled encouragingly and knocked on the door.

+++…+++…+++

 

He could recognize that scent anywhere, even if the boy was buried feet underground. Derek had to leave, he had to hide somehow. He couldn’t see him yet, not after his ridiculous unaccounted for exit from hours before. “Cora! You didn’t say Stiles was coming too.” His sister ignored him and rolled her eyes as she walked over to the door. Derek noticed that he was still clinging to the pillow, so he shoved it under the other pillows of his bed, which was still unmade from two nights ago. Damn it, Cora.

He could now hear footsteps just outside the loft’s door. His chest had begun to beat again, trembling with that strange feeling he had long gone forgotten existed. Did he love or hate that feeling? Damn it Derek, HIDE! Jump out the window, grow wings, do something. But it was too late; Cora opened the door to the loft and in came Lydia, followed by none other but Stiles himself and his stupid red hoodie, the one Derek loved so mu… noticed too often.

They walked in and Cora sniffed the air like she did whenever people came close to her. She could smell strawberries as Lydia passed by her and swayed her hair around, a smell she was quite fond of, also, food, lots of it coming from the plastic bags she was carrying. Following her came Stiles, also holding bags, and he smelled of… “Oh my god, Stiles, didn’t you shower today?”

Stiles opened his mouth, confused, almost loosing grip on the bags of food he was carrying. He breathed heavily, “I… well… I thought you guys preferred when people smelled like... themselves.”

Cora smiled and snorted, teasing Stiles charming intentions. “Well, sure, I guess, but showering doesn’t take away your natural scent, it just takes care of other odors.”

Stiles blushed, not daring to look over at Derek or Cora, he even closed his legs and bowed his head down like a puppy, a reaction to embarrassment he had acquired after spending too much time with Scott. Both siblings noticed how Stiles responded with his body language and Derek couldn’t help but smile and warm up even more inside. Stile’s heart was beating hard and he was starting to sweat. Surely he hadn’t taken a shower because of Derek’s complaints the day before about the boy covering himself with lotion. “I can go if you want to, it’s just….”

“It’s okay Stiles, I’m just messing with you.”  Cora nudged him over to the kitchen and the both followed Lydia as she placed down their meal. Derek was still standing in the middle of the living room like a stone, following Stiles’ footsteps with a creepy gaze.

“We brought Mexican and Chinese… also curly fries, Stiles insisted.” Lydia announced mockingly.

“Thanks, I will take the Chinese.” Cora helped Lydia unpack the food into the island of the kitchen and Stiles stood silently in the middle of the room, dissimulating sniffing his clothing, still feeling stupid and cursing himself for not taking a shower before coming over to visit his crush and his sister.

Cora looked up to find her brother still planted on his heels, looking incredibly taken by surprise and disturbed. “Derek, would you set up the table and stop staring, you’re so creepy sometimes.” Lydia chuckled. “Derek, hello. YO!”

“Yeah, sorry, what?” He shook his head, coming out of his day-dreaming.

“God, you’re so rude. Set up the table.”

And Derek did, but not before walking right by the boy and brushing his arm against Stiles’ hand by accident.  “Hello, Stiles.”

The boy looked up for the first time since he walked into the loft and smiled nervously, not sure of what to say at all. His cheeks and nose were still slightly pink from the blood rushing through his entire body. “Hi, Derek.” And they just looked at each other’s eyes. Stiles still was still blushed and Derek was unsure of how to say that he was sorry for leaving the way he did in the morning. It wasn’t until Cora interrupted the boys and reminded Derek about setting up the table that the aura lost its edge.


	5. Ecorché

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I currently have no beta, if anyone is interested I would really appreciate it!

“So, Cora, when did you guys arrive?”

Lydia and Cora had been hard at the small-talk for way too long. They had sat down at the table and distributed the food into their plates. Cora and Lydia talked as if they had been friends for the longest of times, Stiles and Derek avoiding each other’s eyes as much as possible, however, not being able to resist their curiosities, they still threw glances at each other every once in a while. The boy could now see how Derek rolled his eyes whenever either the Banshee or his sister came up with yet another excuse to keep their mouths moving.

“Can’t you guys just enjoy the meal and, you know, stop talking?” Stiles smiled at his plate, he hadn’t realized that it had been a while since he had heard Derek’s annoyed mannerisms. “Please.” For the past weeks, he had only listened to a calmer more tranquil Derek when they talked on the phone; he hadn’t even noticed until now that Derek’s attitude, even his rigid posture, changed tremendously when it was only the two of them in the room. He didn’t know whether to be pleased or upset by the observation.

Cora stuck her tongue out at his cranky older brother and continued, “We actually just arrived yesterday, since it’s a full moon tonight I thought that maybe it would be a better idea to be around known territory.”

Stiles sat up straight and jerked his neck. “Hey, it was my idea!” A bit insulted, he raised his fork and pointed it at Cora, “I told you guys that since _you_ were on your… you know, moods, that it was safer for you to come back over here for a while.”

The three others eyed him closely. Lydia mas smirking, Cora seemed offended, and Derek was just looking at his lips moving… Stiles hadn’t said anything since they had all sat down to eat.

“She speaks!” Cora clapped her hands and then leaned against the chair. “I knew something was wrong with you Stiles, usually you can never contain your mouth for longer than a minute. But, hey, I missed your voice.”

She raised an accusing eyebrow at her brother, “Hell, even Derek missed the sound of your voice.” Derek scowled at her. “Smooth, Derek, very smooth.”

“Okaay, so! Uhm, you guys want dessert?” Lydia stood up and took Cora by the wrist, “You come and help me serve the pie.” The werewolf stood up indignantly, clearly enjoying whatever she was trying to do at the table, however, she followed Lydia to the kitchen after being promised the largest slice of the cake.

“It better be apple pie.”

They were left alone, in the dining room, nothing but the sound of the two girls giggling in the kitchen and the wind blowing in from the windows.

“Sorry, she can be a pain in the ass.” Derek rested his elbows on the table and pressed his hands up to his chin.

“Yeah, no really, it’s fine.” Stiles stopped playing with his food and placed down the fork, “The Hales have a peculiar sense of humor.”

Derek chuckled, “Her humor resembles Peter’s more than me. Mine is more like… like my mom’s.”

There was silence after that.

Stiles kept rubbing his knuckles, making his skin pink at the anxious touch. He still hadn’t looked up to see Derek.

“Look, Stiles.” Derek shifted in his seat, feet across from the boy. It really was such a strange sight to presence Stiles in a completely hushed state, without anything snarky or sarcastic to say about the situation. In all their time knowing each other, he had never seen the Sheriff’s son so completely motionless, either, so static and… tense. It scared the hell out of Derek.

“Stiles, are you okay?” Nothing in the boy’s face changed. “Stiles, you are making me really uneasy right now.” He couldn’t take it anymore. Derek stood up from his chair and walked to the other side of the table were Stiles seemed to hover in his own mind. “Please talk to me? I’m sorry about earlier today, I just… I had to get away for a bit. I freaked out.”

To that, Stiles finally looked up, not being able, however, to look at Derek just yet. His voice was shaky, “Why did you freak out?”

Derek didn’t answer right away. Stiles could basically hear the wheels turning on the werewolf’s mind. Stiles looked over at Derek and locked their eyes. “Derek, was it my fault? I didn’t mean to freak you out, that’s why I had asked you the night before if… if you were okay with it. I didn’t want to make this… us awkward. I’m sorry okay, it’s not going to happened again, I promise.”

Derek was awestruck. Stiles was blaming himself. _Stiles was blaming himself_. And it was all Derek’s fault. He wanted to tell Derek that whatever Stiles was saying wasn’t the reason he was freaked out of his mind, he wanted to confess Stiles that he had ran away because he had been afraid, more than anything, drowned with distress and confusion. But he couldn’t find the courage to tell him…. “It’s okay, no, Stiles, really it’s fine. I just… It’s….”

“Was it the full moon? It was wasn’t it. God, I shouldn’t have told you about the dreams….” Stiles was rubbing his arms now, his eyes closed. “I’m so stupid, I’m sorry.”

“Stiles, look at me.” Derek cupped Stiles’ tense shoulders and waited for Stiles to open his shaky eyes, “I am glad that you told me about your nightmares, I actually feel great that you decided to finally share that with me. And it’s okay, that has nothing to do with this morning, and I am happy to help in any way I can, you have to know that. And I will help you out with this thing, okay? I want you to be alright. Are you listening?” Stiles nodded, not really sure if it was good for him to believe in the words that were pouring out of Derek’s chapped lips right now. Once Stiles placed his trust on someone else’s hands, there were only two outcomes: everything would be alright, or they would destroy it in front of his eyes. But he nodded anyways. “Today, in the morning, I just freaked out, kind of what’s happening with you right now. But, in the same way that you get this anxiety, I react differently, I seem to always want to… I tend to run away. That’s kind of my thing if you haven’t figured it out yet.”

Stiles grinned, his breathing almost controlled after listening to Derek’s speech and feeling the werewolf’s strong hands holding him down in place. “I’m sorry, it wasn’t your fault and it wasn’t my fault, either, deal? Let’s just forget about today. It will be fine.”

Stiles recovered his breath, and it was only then that Derek stepped back and leaned against the table. “Are you okay, Stiles?”

The boy nodded and smiled, “You are good at that. The last time I got a panic-attack Lydia had to kiss me to calm me down….” Derek’s eyes almost popped out of their sockets. “But this worked, though.”

“I just felt guilty from today, you know, I just felt like I had crossed a line in order to like, you know, get a good night’s sleep. I felt like I had abused our… friendship.”

“Stiles, it’s okay, I told you it was fine, really. Trust me. Now stop talking about it, okay.” He felt horrible about not having the balls to tell Stiles the real reason why he had freaked out. That for months he had imagined what had actually happened last time… that for months he had built up the hope that….

“You snore when you sleep, Derek.” That got a chuckle out of the werewolf. “Yeah, sorry about that.” He offered a smile to Stiles and the boy smiled back.

“It’s okay, it was the first night in a month that I could finally sleep without… you know. So it’s okay.”

Derek changed posture, still leaning against the table.

“So, we’re still friends, then?”

Derek looked over at Stiles’ expectant and hopeful expression and his heart broke a bit. “Yes, Stiles.” Derek sighed. “We’re still friends.”

+++***+++***+++

“So, you guys, Cora ate half of the pie and refuses to share whatever is left with us, so we’re stuck with just the ice-cream.”Lydia glided into the room somehow balancing four cups, their respective spoons, and a large bowl of pistachio ice-cream.

“I told you Lydia, I need the reserve of food for _after_ the full moon, it totally drains us from our energy.” Cora followed Lydia, licking her fingers clean. “Besides, it’s not my fault you decided to bring my favorite kind of pie.”

Lydia smirked to herself and then turned to Cora, her strawberry blonde-hair almost swishing the werewolf in the face. “It was Stiles’ idea, actually. He picked the desserts.”

The two girls looked across the table at the two boys that now sat next to each other. “Yeah, well, I thought we should bring apple pie for you, since it’s in your top five picks and then pistachio ice-cream because I know it’s been Derek’s favorite since he was a kid.”

“We literally had to go to three different places to find the damn ice-cream.” Lydia separated the pile of cups and placed a spoon at everyone’s place on the table. She did do great as a hostess in any occasion. After all, Lydia Martin’s parties were always the best parties.

“I like you,” Cora pointed at Stiles with her spoon, “Derek, we are keeping _him_.” She sat down on her seat and spread out her legs under the table, but was soon scolded by Lydia.

“Cora, I told you to serve the ice-cream!”

“I’m going I’m going, sheeesh.”

Stiles was smiling, obviously repeating what Cora had just said about him. He wanted to stay.

He really really wanted to stay. Cora handed out the ice-cream and finally sat down.

This time, it was Stiles who spoke first. “So, what are you guys planning for tonight? Will you go out in the woods or just chill?”

Derek giggled… he actually giggled! And Cora chocked a bit on the ice-cream she was passing down. Once she recovered her grip, Cora spoke. “Stiles, we never just ‘chill’ on a full moon, haven’t you talked to Scott about this? There’s always some type of concentration we must pull off during the process….”

“Yeah, but you guys know what I mean. Like, will you just stay here are the loft?”

“I suppose I have to, since whatever is going on with me right now is too dangerous. It has only happened twice before.”

“The first time was ugly.”

“Shut up, Derek. You don’t understand how difficult this is.”

Lydia smiled to herself. “So, how do you guys do it?” Everyone looked at the Banshee. “Like, with Scott, since he is a bitten werewolf, he has to find a thought, pillars, something to keep him grounded, right? Do you guys have the same struggle every time?” She put the spoon in her mouth, her eyes shining with curiosity.

It was Derek who answered, “Well, we’ve had more time to get a grip on it. I guess it is easier for us when you compare it to those who have to learn as quickly as Scott and the others did…. But we do need to find something to hold on to, anything really: a soothing thought, a strong memory.”

Stiles blinked, his heart skipping a beat. He hadn’t experienced any transformations like the werewolves had, but he could identify to what they went through ever full-moon, for he had been dealing with the same problems ever since that night… he had begun to feel like a hostage inside his own body, inside his own mind. And with every passing night, he felt more lost than before. “An anchor.” He whispered to himself.

“What did you say, Stiles?” Cora asked, her attention completely fixated on the boy now.

He looked up. “It’s what Scott and I call it, an anchor. Something to keep you steady so you won’t lose yourself when something’s trying to take control over you. That which you hold dearly so you don’t forget who you really are.”

Derek eyed him cautiously as he spoke; realizing that Stiles knew exactly what Derek was talking about earlier. Stiles had been going through this, not during the full moons, but every night since the sacrifice.…

Lydia shifted on her chair, a bit befuddled by the strange glares the two werewolves were holding on her friend. “Are you okay, Stiles?”

He shook his head, “Yeah, it’s just… I’m tired that’s all.”

Derek couldn’t take his eyes off of Stiles.

Cora just helped herself to more ice-cream. “I’m starting to feel it actually, the effect on the moon on us. It’s beginning. Do you feel it Derek?” Her brother seemed to be on a trance, his worrying expression calling for her attention. “Hey, Derek!”

He shook out of it. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

Lydia rolled her eyes, “God, hanging out with the supernatural is so exhausting.”

They all shared a laugh. Derek’s, however, was more of a mirthless imitation, for he still couldn’t get it out of his head. _Stiles was losing himself._

***+++***+++***

“Come back anytime! Oh, and always _always_ bring good food.” Cora yelled at them from the kitchen where she had begun to voluntarily wash the dishes, which had surprised all of them. “Wish us luck, tonight!” They both responded with a “GOOD LUCK TONIGHT!”

Lydia nodded amicably to Derek and then gestured him goodbye with her left palm, then she turned to Stiles, “I will wait at the Jeep.” She smiled at Derek again walked down the stairs with grace, as she always did.

Stiles was looking at every detail of Derek’s face but his eyes. “So, thanks for inviting us.”

“You guys invited yourselves.” Derek was just mocking, Stiles could read it in the way his mouth kind of curved into a tiny hindered smile.

He yanked his hands out from his pockets, shook them in front of his face, clearly tugging at his brain to find something to say, and then he placed his hands back in his pockets. “Well, uhm, then thank you for the food.”

“Stiles, you brought the food.” The grin on Derek’s face only grew, and so did the swelling on Stiles’ chest.

The adolescent hyperactive spazz just jerked his neck and hunched his shoulders. “Fine, thanks for your company then, gosh, you’re so rude sometimes, Derek.”

The werewolf chuckled and uncrossed his arms, letting himself breathe deeply before speaking. “Thanks for coming, Stiles. Thanks for having the balls I didn’t have to actually go and talk to you first.” Stiles’ deep brown eyes met his own, “Thanks for not letting me distance myself again."

Stiles offered Derek a sarcastic smirk and then he just raised his eyebrows playfully and poked Derek’s chest with his right hand. “Yeah, huh, you are welcome, because I have the _balls_ now, that’s right, I have more _balls_ and….”

“Don’t push it, Stiles.”

“Yeah, sorry, okay, alright, I will now go and let you do whatever you’re going to do tonight.” He stepped back and turned around. “Goodbye, Derek!”

The werewolf was left standing at the threshold watching Stiles trip down the stairs, feeling his heartbeat finally slowdown for the first time since he opened his eyes that morning.

+++***+++***+++

“It’s your next right.”

“Lydia, I know where you live, okay, let me drive.” Stiles answered, a bit too cheerfully and still smiling from the diner.

“That sounds too creepy when you say it like that, just so you know.” She shifted on the shotgun seat to look at Stiles, a grin tattooed on his ludicrously jubilant face. “Sooo, how did it go? You guys seemed better after we left for the desserts; you are welcome for that by the way!” She took her necklace in her hands and fiddled around with thin golden chain.

“That helped I guess, and thank you Lydia.” He was still smiling.

“Well tell me why you’re still smiling, then!”

“We talked, well we tried to talk and then my anxiety kicked in and I began having a panic attack for no reason at all, really, it was just weird… and then… then he just… Derek calmed me down.”

Lydia opened her mouth, awestruck, and screeched.

“OMG, Lydia, don’t use your banshee powers, what the hell!” He took a stronger hold on the steering wheel and ran a hand through his scalp, “You fucking scared me.”

She giggled, “Sorry, I still have to work on that. But wait, he kissed you?”

“What! No, of course he didn’t. I never said that. Those words never left my mouth! God, you know, there are other ways of stopping a panic attack other than unexpected kissing.” He teased.

“I don’t remember you thanking me for that, by the way.” She winked at him, “Well, how did he do it then?”

Stiles tried to remember, but as much as he tried to concentrate on the scene, all he really recalled clearly was the sound of Derek’s concerned voice inches away from his face and his steady tender hold on his shoulders. “He… I don’t know… he just spoke to me and everything stopped spinning.”

“You sound like a girl, Stiles.”

“Shut up!”

They drove for some seconds more, as they snickered, before arriving to Lydia’s house.

“Well, here we are,” She collected her things from the backseat, “No, it’s okay, don’t get off, I can open my own door.”

Stiles grinned. “Thanks Lydia, for helping, it really means a lot.” They looked at each other, no walls between them anymore, just simple genuine care.

She leaned over and hugged him. About a year ago, Stiles would have possibly gotten a boner from this moment and he would’ve been chanting in his head about how he was finally being hugged by the one and only Lydia Martin, but now he just felt relieved. “For reals, thank you.”

“Don’t worry, Stiles.” She hoped out of the Jeep (Stiles stills didn’t understand how she was so agile while always wearing high heels) and began walking towards the front door of her house as she waved Stiles goodbye.

***+++***+++***

He really hoped that having had seen Derek in a “jolly” mood mere hours ago would help his situation. Stiles also hoped that the faint smell of Derek on his bed sheets and on his pillow would help out a bit, if just the thought of having Derek near helped him long enough most nights back when they texted, he figured that seeing Derek smile wide like he had hours ago would gift him for at least five whole hours of a serene kind of sleep.

Of course he could do this, he was ready.

Stiles grabbed grasp of the pillow that Derek had used last night and he positioned himself in the bed just like the night before, trying to fool his brain into believing that Derek might still be holding him, that his anchor was there with him to protect him from the shadows that invaded his mind.

Slowly, Stiles began to drift away into sleep, his breathing calm and his heartbeat steady. But it wasn’t until he heard the familiar deep howls from far away entering through his window, that he finally let go and fell deeply asleep.

+++***+++***+++

_He’s at the school. It’s night time. He really doesn’t see much but two walls at his sides and a door three feet before him, but, for some reason, he is sure that he’s at the school. He turns around and nothing appears to be there but a giant mass of darkness. It’s cold, he can feel the cold in his hands and so he tries to rub it off. And… and he feels heavier, somehow; and wet. He looks down and he’s barefoot… and he’s wearing the same clothes he wore the day of the sacrifice._

_But he didn’t panic, he was breathing fine, he was calm, and that just scared the hell out of him._

_There were whispers behind him… indistinct whispers, hoarse noises, a slow river of voices that seemed to beg…. And a thud._

_Stiles decided to get away from whatever had created those noises in the jet blackness that hung behind him. So he opened the first door._

_At first, he only saw an empty white room, a red chair in the middle of it. He didn’t feel wet anymore, but the cold still engulfed him from head to toe. There, in the chair, was Erica._

_She had a gray hoodie over her head, and she wore a blue hospital gown, her eyes were closed and she showed no sign of consciousness… but Stiles knew it was her. Her fangs were out and her chin was dripping blood. “Erica, Erica are you okay?” He walked over and kneeled before her, double checking that there wouldn’t be anyone else in the room with the. He took her pale hand on his to look for her pulse. There was only a faint thump. “Erica talk to me, what’s happening, what is this place?”_

_What came out of her mouth weren’t words, it was a simple muffled exhalation. Then, she opened her eyes, and Stiles could see his own reflection… standing behind him a dark figure. “Run!” Erica yelled, but it was too late. Stiles was being tugged by his throat._

_He opened his eyes and he was shaking. His chest was dripping with sweat and his forehead felt thawed. He was in his bedroom, wearing his pajamas, sitting up on his own bed. But something was wrong… the window had been closed, there was no breeze, no wind… there was no air. And he began to choke._

_He stood up quickly and went to the window, quickly unlocking it, but when he tried to push it open, it wouldn’t budge. He tried five times before deeming the action useless. He couldn’t breathe and desperation began to fill his chest. When he tripped and bumped his leg against his desk, he noticed that he couldn’t listen to anything either, not even his own screams._

_He then skipped towards the door of his room and yanked it open._

_Then, he was falling._

_He landed on grass. A field. He was not in the woods, no, he was at the lacrosse field, back at the school. But he could breathe now, and the freezing that drowned him was gone._

_“Stiles!” He turned around, but no one was there._

_“Stiles!” He turned again, but he couldn’t find the person calling out his name._

_“Who’s out there?!” He almost choked as he spoke, the reassurance of dryness around him._

_“Stiles, Stiles, it’s me, it’s me Scott!”_

_Stiles eyes dilated as the light of the field were turned on. He covered his face from the rays of light with the help of his hands. Once the light seemed to dim down, he was able to see again. But before him lay not a lacrosse field, but a graveyard._

_All around him, there were bodies piled up. Most of them were strangers, their faces blurred away somehow, but he recognized some of the victims that lied before him. Isaac, and Allison’s mother, he saw Dr.Deaton and Ennis, Coach Finstock’s chest was ripped open and Danny’s head was shred to pieces… he saw friends from his childhood and he distinguished the faces of kids from the school… Boyd was hung from a tree, his stare lost in the night, Heather had her eyes pulled out and Mr. Harris head had been cut off… and still, he kept control… and it filled Stiles with terror, knowing that he was calm while looking at all these familiar faced rotting in front of him._

_He turned around, and there he saw Scott, being impaled by the Kanima, blood gashing from an opening on his throat as he forced his last words, _"Stiles, don't!_ _

_And from behind him came a desperate shriek for help._

_“Lydia.”_

_He turned once more and the scenery had changed again. He was now in an empty boat house, a lake shimmering with the reflection of a full moon. “Lydia, are you here?”_

_There was a hiss from his right, but he wasn’t sure if he wanted to look and discover the creator of the sound. But then the teasing hiss turned into a roar and his head moved on its own. There he saw Kate, transformed into a different creature he hadn’t encountered before. “Hello, Stiles.”_

_Out of nowhere, three giant shadows appeared, and they began to fight against the newly transformed Kate Argent. He didn’t distinguish the figures, for they moved to fast and they seemed to evaporate and appear in the blink of an eye. They wielded swords and their eyes shone yellow…. Stiles began to fall back, intimidated by the strange fight happening feet away from him, but after the fourth step, he was being thrown against a wall._

_A brick wall, outside of the Sheriff’s office. In front of him was his own dad, pushing Stiles against a wall, his heavy around his son’s neck. “What have you done to my son?”His dad took out his gun and aimed it at Stiles’ forehead. “Tell, me, what have you done to Stiles!”_

_“Dad,” his voice was shaking, he was suspended, his feet not being able to reach the ground, and there was an kind of idle rage reflected on his father’s eyes… he couldn’t understand what was happening to him, “Dad, dad, it’s me, your son, Dad, I’m Stiles!”_

_His dad released the grip on Stiles’ throat and inhaled twice… a shiny teardrop began to slide down his cheek as he walked backwards three steps and spoke, looking directly at Stiles’ eyes, “This isn’t you.” And he fired the gun._

_He woke up standing next to a hospital bed. Stiles looked around and there was nobody… there was also no door, no escape route. He then look down at the bed, and there was Derek, breathing heavily, panting for air. There were tubes connected to his wrists and his entire skin was covered with cuts and bruises. "Derek?” The electrocardiogram machine began to beep faster. “Derek, why aren’t you healing?”The werewolf’s pulse began to race, “Derek what’s happening?”_

_The werewolf pulled Stiles close and whispered into his ear, “Do not open the door, Stiles.” He coughed and passed saliva, “Listen,” Stiles nodded as he took Derek’s hand on his and gripped it tight. “You must not open the door…._

***+++***+++***

**“Stiles, Stiles wake up, Stiles! “No, Derek, what’s wrong! Why? Why… the bruises….” “Wake up, Stiles, wake up!”**

***+++***+++***

Someone was holding him. He felt wet, the sheets that were tangled up on his waist…they were soggy. He had been sweating, again. And someone was holding him tight on their arms. “Stiles, it’s okay, you’re alright.” The smell, he recognized the heavy smell. And the voice was soothing to his ears. It wasn’t until his heart had begun to slow down that he noticed how accelerated he had been, he could practically listen to the thuds of his pulse on his ears. “You’re awake, Stiles, this is real.” A hand was caressing his hair, sliding away the hair from his forehead. “Stiles…”

“Der-k… I… Derek.”

“Yes, I’m here, Stiles.” His hand ran through Stiles' damp hair again.

“I… I dreamt. There were these… and my dad…” Stiles’ skin felt on fire, “And then you… in the hospital bed… and I….”

Derek placed a finger over Stiles’ sweaty lips, “It’s okay, Stiles, they were just nightmares. Now try to calm down.”

***+++***+++***

“I’m sorry that you had to see that.” Stiles was walking into his room from the bathroom across the hall. After he had gotten enough of a grip on himself, Derek had basically shoved him into the shower so he could snap out of it quicker with the water. It had worked. “Well, at least now you know what I was talking about before.”

“Stiles, don’t say that. I’m just glad you’re okay now.” Derek was sitting on his bed, he wore a black shirt and jeans, and no boots, just sneakers.

He had never seen Derek wear sneakers. Stiles wasn’t sure if he wanted to know, but he asked anyway, “What were you doing here ?”

“I was…” Derek shifted in the bed, “Well you left the window open and I hear you.”

“You ‘heard’ me?” Stiles’ accusing stare landed on Derek, “All the way from your loft, you heard me having trouble sleeping?”

Derek hunched. “Okay, fine.” He stood up and walked over to where Stiles was hanging his towel in a chair. “I was having a full moon midnight run and…”

“Full moon midnight run?” He repeated mockingly

“Shut up.” If it hadn’t been almost pitch dark, Stiles might’ve been able to make out the blush rising on Derek’s cheeks. “As I said, I was out running and I just happened to see your house, so I thought I would come by and then I saw you shaking and you kept whispering names and things… I thought you would appreciate if I woke you up. Also, you scared me a lot.”

Stiles felt like grinning, but his head was still shaky from the nightmares. “Yeah, I’ve been scaring myself a lot lately, too.”

He walked to his bed and pulled peeled of the sheets from the bed. “I’m going to put these on the washing machine, I’ll be right back.”

Derek was left alone in Stiles’ room. He thought about telling Stiles how he hadn’t been able to control his wolf when it had guided him to Stiles’ house… or rather how he had decided to let his wolf take over when it seemed to be motivated into coming to check in on Stiles. But he kept that to himself, Stiles didn’t need to know that. And, God, was Derek happy that he had let his wolf take over that night. If he hadn’t been there… he didn’t really want to think about how Stiles would’ve woken up if he had kept on hanging on to his sleep, cringing on to the nightmares that invaded his head.

He knew about his sleeping problems, he knew that there was something wrong with Stiles. He had told Derek himself, with vivid detail, how dreadful it had become. But he never had wanted to see it himself happening right in front of him. Stiles shaking and gripping on to his own skin… his eyes trembling from behind his eyelids, begging for release…. He had heard Stiles’ painful moans and his desperate breathing…. It had affected Derek so much. He didn’t have a choice but wake Stiles up and hold him in place, and when his skin made contact, he noticed that Stiles had been on physical pain. He tried taking some of it away, but the hurt lingered on Stiles, it hung on to him until he was entirely awake.

Derek had never seen nightmares cause that kind of reaction on anybody, he had never heard of it. He couldn’t believe it to be real.

“So, Derek, how was the full moon midnight run?” Stiles raised an eyebrow as he walked in, “That has to be the name of a band or something.”

“Stiles.”

“Yes, Derek.”

“Next time you want to fall asleep, please call me.” Derek’s stare was dead serious, Stiles didn’t budge. “I don’t want to see you go through that again. If what you need is someone to watch over you, and if that happens to be me, I really don’t care, I will do it.”

“Derek… I… I thought that after yesterday…”

The werewolf interrupted Stiles and sat on his bed. “Stiles, I’m here for you, okay?”

“So we _are_ friends then?” Stiles sat next to Derek on the bed and tried to study Derek’s entire face as he answered.

“Stiles, I told you, yes, we are friends.”

He sucked at reading faces, specially Derek’s dumb stoic face. “Good then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I took way too long to update this damn fic, I hope you guys aren't disappointed. I do, though, have big plans for this story.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope to upload another chapter soon, hopefully you guys can give me feedback if you like my work.  
> http://derek-and-stiles.tumblr.com/ I do update tumblr daily! :D Hope you keep in touch!


End file.
